


Surrender

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Drama, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-30
Updated: 2008-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron loves Hermione, and Hermione loves Ron. Simple, right? WRONG!! Ron's turned it into a game and Hermione is not going down withough a fight. But will they admit their love for each other before it is too late? Will they Surrender to their emotions?And Ginny has been given a great opportunity. but now she has to learn everything from fifth year and sixth year in about six months. Can she do it?And there is another. Someone with a secret. A secret that would ruin. A secret that another will exploit for their own ends.RW/HG, HP/GW, plus hints of other ships





	1. Chapter 1 - The T.O.A.D's

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

“Miss Ginevra Weasley?” 

Professor McGonagall’s voice carried across the Gryffindor common room. Ginny glanced up from her chess game with Harry Potter, towards the open portrait hole where McGonagall was standing.  

“Please come to my office immediately.”  Ginny nodded her acknowledgment and stood up. She took one last look at the chessboard.  

“Knight to F7.” She watched as the magical chessman moved across the board and broke Harry’s queen into pieces. “

Checkmate,” she declared triumphantly. “Harry, you may be the Boy Who Lived, but I think you really need to work on your chess skills.” 

*~*~*  

Ginny followed Professor McGonagall to her office. As she entered, McGonagall gestured to the spare chairs across the desk while McGonagall herself took up her own. 

Lately, this room was becoming far too familiar to Ginny as she found it more and more difficult to resist the mischievous streak that had been so pronounced in Fred and George, her twin older brothers. The pair had recently left school prematurely to open a practical joke shop in Diagon Alley.  Ginny waited until McGonagall had settled before she launched into her prepared story. 

“Professor, if this is about those cherry bombs, I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t even know they would blow up. The twins sent them to me. I guess I should have known, considering the source, but if I had known they would explode, I would never have thrown them at Malf—” 

McGonagall interrupted Ginny’s speech. 

“This is not about the incident in the corridor yesterday, although we will be discussing that later. I have called you here today to tell you that you have been allowed to take the TOADs.” 

“What are they?” Ginny asked. 

McGonagall pursed her lips at the disruption. 

“The TOADs are the Tests Of Acute Difficulty. They are seldom offered, and in fact you are only the second student at Hogwarts presented with the opportunity in over forty years. Now this year, while the other fifth years are taking their OWLs, you will be able to sit for the TOADs with them. Should you pass, you will have the choice of staying with your peers, and return as a sixth year, or you may bypass that and return as a seventh year.” 

Ginny stared at the Transfiguration teacher as if she had just grown an extra head.

_Skip sixth year? Finish a year early…if I could pull this off, I would be in the same year as Harry!_ It was a fairly well known fact that Ginny had had a crush on Harry Potter for a good eight years, long before she had even met him.  

The professor could practically see the thoughts whirling through Ginny’s head. She continued, “I realize this is a lot for you to take in and you certainly do not have to decide immediately. Your parents have also been informed. You should discuss it with them.” 

“Could I tell anyone else?” 

“I will leave that to your discretion. As I said, this is only on the condition that you pass them completely. If you do not, your scores will be translated into OWLs and you will complete your studies as normal.” 

Ginny sat mutely, trying to comprehend everything. 

“So, _if_ I pass them, I still have a choice between going ahead and staying where I am?” 

“That is correct. Over the next two terms, immediately after these Christmas holidays, you will receive private tutorials for each subject to get you up to sixth year level. At any time, if we feel that you are falling behind, with your current or future schoolwork, you will be removed from the program. Do you have any questions?”  

Ginny stared at the older woman blankly, letting the information filter into her brain. 

“You said that I was the second in forty years, right?” 

“That’s right, yes.” 

“Who was the first?” 

McGonagall smiled slightly. “I cannot really divulge that information, although she is in Gryffindor. I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned it.” 

Understanding flickered over Ginny’s face. _She must be talking about Hermione_ , she thought to herself. _But why on earth wouldn’t she have mentioned it?_  Ginny was brought back to reality when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. 

“Do you have any other questions?” Ginny shook her head numbly. Her head was still spinning with all of the possibilities that McGonagall had just presented to her.  

 “Good, then you are dismissed.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” Ginny got up and hurried to exit the room.

“Wait a moment.” McGonagall called. Ginny froze with one hand on the doorknob and looked back to the older woman who was now sorting through the neat stacks of parchment on her desk. 

“Yes, Professor?” 

“You will have detention next week, scrubbing the trophy room floor for that little incident in the corridor. Without magic.”  

Ginny sighed and nodded, resigned to her fate. She had almost escaped without the detention. It had been worth it though. She had magicked the small red fireworks, known as cherry bombs, to fly under the hem of Draco Malfoy’s school robes. They had exploded with loud bangs and flashes of sparks could be seen coming out of the bottom of the robes. 

In hindsight, Ginny thought he was actually lucky that his trousers hadn’t caught fire. As far as she was concerned though, Ginny believed he had deserved everything he got. Draco took great pleasure in tormenting her whenever they crossed paths. 

That particular day he had knocked the books she had been carrying out of her hands, and then levitated them above her reach. In retaliation, she pulled three small cherries from her bag and sent them into Malfoy’s robes with the flick of her wand. They were actually quite ingenious and one of the Weasley twins’ more popular recent inventions. They looked and felt like real cherries, until the victim of the practical joker tried to take a bite. Then they would explode in their face. Fred and George had actually lived without eyebrows for four months while they developed them.  

Her books had quickly fallen back to the ground when the bombs had started going off inside Malfoy’s robes. She had gathered them up and run down the Charms corridor before Malfoy could retaliate. She still laughed when she thought of the look on his face. 

She quickly wiped the grin off her face when McGonagall told her to report to Mr. Filch for detention the following Thursday. Ginny nodded solemnly, thanked the professor again then exited her office and returned to the Gryffindor common room. 


	2. Chapter 2 - "You're in love with him?"

 Ginny climbed through the portrait hole, just in time to catch another row between her brother, Ron and Hermione. This time it was apparently about studying, or rather, her brother’s lack thereof.

 

“Ron, how can you expect to pass your NEWTs if you never study?” Hermione was saying crossly from where she sat behind a mound of books.

 

Ginny sighed to herself and leant against the wall near the portrait hole to watch. The common room was fairly empty, with many of the students having gone home for the Christmas holidays. Even so, Ron and Hermione rowed so often that nobody bothered to look up from their own idle pursuits to watch, unless the row was a particularly spectacular one. Ginny saw Harry sitting in one of the armchairs near the fireplace with a bemused expression on his face as he tried to read a book on Quidditch plays. She caught Harry’s eye and smiled, rolling her eyes at the other two.

 

“First of all, I do study. Just because I’m not obsessed with schoolwork like you doesn’t mean I'm going to fail my NEWTs. Besides, I got seven OWLs last year.”

 

Ron didn’t bother looking up from the Exploding Snap card tower he was building. The entire structure was quivering and starting to smoke at the edges and was sure to blow up any minute.

 

“I am not obsessed with schoolwork,” Hermione said through gritted teeth.

 

“Secondly, we don’t even take the NEWTs until next year. And besides that, you do enough for the both of us.”

 

Hermione glared at him and watched him with his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in an idiotic, yet adorable, way as he positioned more Exploding Snap cards onto the now violently shaking tower.

 

“What are you going to do then, when the NEWTs come around, and you don’t know anything? Eighteen months will go by really quickly, and you aren’t going to be able to just bull your way through them, like you and Harry did Divination…even though it was a load of rubbish,” she muttered.

 

Ron’s cards disintegrated in a ball of flames, singeing his eyebrows. His distraction now gone, he committed himself to the argument. The banter continued back and forth for a good ten minutes before Hermione threw her hands up in frustration.

 

“Fine! If you want to ruin your future that’s just fine with me! I wash my hands of it!” And with that, she snapped her books closed, and stormed out through the portrait hole.

 

Ron collapsed on the couch by the fire, near where Harry was sitting and ran his fingers through his red hair. He had always been tall and lanky, but since becoming the Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, his shoulders had broadened, new muscles filled out his frame well and overall, he was quite handsome.

 

_Even if he is my prat-of-a-brother,_ Ginny thought to herself.

 

Ron’s enhanced appearance had not gone unnoticed by the female population of the school. However, everyone also knew that he and Hermione would one day realise their feelings for one another. It was really only a matter of time.

 

Harry too had not been ignored for his looks, and although not as tall as Ron, he was lean and toned from playing Quidditch from first year onwards. If possible, his emerald eyes had become greener, and his messy black hair more unruly. It was little wonder that Ginny had fallen for him, and she wasn’t the only one.

 

Done with her mental evaluation of her brother and his best friend, Ginny walked over to the couch were they were sitting. Reaching out, she firmly smacked Ron around the head.

 

“Oi! Ginny!” Ron yelled, turning in his seat. “What was that for?”

 

“That was for upsetting Hermione yet again. Can’t you find a more pleasant way of showing you love her? Flowers are much more traditional, and they smell good too.” Ginny waggled her eyebrows, taunting her brother as he spluttered his denial.

 

“I don’t love Hermione! She’s my best friend.”

 

“Then how do you explain that you’ve remained ‘best friends’ for five and a half years, yet have a fight every other week?” Ginny asked. Leaving Ron to think about that, Ginny exited the common room. She had a fairly good idea of where she would be able to find Hermione.

 

Ginny entered the library and started walking up and down the shelves, looking for a familiar bushy-haired figure. She found Hermione hunched over a piece of parchment, her quill poised over the page but she hadn’t written a word and the ink had dried on the tip. Hermione must have heard her coming, because without turning around she sighed deeply and said, “Go away, Ron.”

 

Ginny sat down next to her. “Close. Wrong Weasley though.”

 

“Oh, hey Ginny,” Hermione looked up from the book she was reading.

 

“Want to talk about it?” Ginny offered.

 

“Not especially,” she smiled ruefully. “What did Professor McGonagall want to see you about?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.

 

“Oh, nothing much,” Ginny replied flippantly. “Except I might be allowed to skip sixth year and go into seventh with you lot next year,” she added, her grin widening at Hermione’s gasp.

 

“Ginny, that’s wonderful!” Hermione hugged her tightly. The pair had become close friends as neither could really relate to the other girls in their respective years.

 

“It’s still an ‘if’. But, I _did_ hear something interesting while I was there,” Ginny replied, when the older girl had released her. “Hermione, why didn’t you take the TOADs?”

 

Hermione looked at Ginny sharply. “Who told you that?”

 

“McGonagall said it was someone in Gryffindor. You’re the only one I know that would be smart enough.”

 

“I did take them.”

 

“Oh…didn’t you pass them then?” Ginny’s smile faded. _If Hermione hadn’t passed them, what chance do I have?_

 

“Yes, I did. I just didn’t go up the year.” Hermione said, not quite meeting Ginny’s eye.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I didn’t want to, that’s all.”

 

“Hermione, surely you can come up with a better answer than that,”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione picked up one of the spell books spread across the table and started flicking through it distractedly. She clearly wasn’t really reading it, as Ginny could see it was actually upside down.

 

Understanding dawned on Ginny. She touched Hermione’s shoulder and asked softly, “Was it because of Ron?”

 

Hermione still refused to meet Ginny’s gaze “You stayed back, when you could have skipped an entire school year, because you wanted to stay with Ron?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

 

Hermione glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, before crumbling.

 

“ALRIGHT! I confess! I love your git-of-a-brother. I, Hermione Granger, love Ronald Weasley, and have done so since first year…I just didn’t realise it at the time. There, I’ve admitted it.”

 

Ginny grinned broadly. “I knew it!” she crowed.

 

“You knew? How?”

 

“Hermione, it’s not half obvious. I’ve seen how he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. I’ve noticed how you hold your breath when he sits close to you. Heck, I saw your toes curl when he kissed you under the mistletoe, on the _cheek_ , the other day.”

 

Hermione blushed and looked down at her bare feet, in surprise. “How many people know this?” she asked quietly.

 

“Well, if you count all of the people in the common room and all of the people in their dormitories and about half of the rest of the school, then subtract Ron, you’d be getting pretty close.”

 

“Oh.” Hermione sat there, taking all of this information in, while Ginny sat next to her practically bouncing with glee. Neither noticed the redheaded boy slowly retreating from the room. 


	3. Chapter 3 - You look terrible

Harry looked up as Ron climbed in through the portrait hole. Ron was as pale as a ghost and instead of joining Harry in front of the fireplace, went straight up the spiral staircase to the sixth year boys’ dormitory. Harry raised an eyebrow at his friends retreating figure before shrugging his shoulders and returning to the Quidditch book he had been reading.

 

Thoughts whirled through Ron’s head as he flopped down on his four-poster. He tried to get his head around the fact that Hermione, his best friend for six years, had said she was in love with him. He just couldn’t admit to himself that the feeling was mutual.

 

Ron was wide awake when Harry and Seamus finally came up. The other two boys who shared the room, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom, had gone home for Christmas. As Harry and Seamus got ready for bed, Ron kept his back to them, pretending to be asleep. He was still tossing and turning almost an hour later when a pillow sailed across the room onto his bed.

 

“Ron, I swear, I am this close to Stunning you! Either shut up and go to sleep, or cast a bloody Silencing spell!” Seamus yelled across the room.

 

Ron hurled the pillow back at Seamus and turned his back on him, grumbling. He continued battling with his thoughts until he finally fell into a troubled sleep.

 

*~*~*

 

The next morning Ron was early to rise and go down to the common room. He had decided that until he figured out his feelings for Hermione, he would simply avoid her. Easier said than done, seeing as she was in a majority of his classes.

 

There were few people in the Great Hall for breakfast yet. _Good,_ he thought to himself tiredly. _I don’t want to talk to anyone._ Ron sat down to butter some toast, dropping back to his thoughts.

 

He didn’t realise that he was still buttering that same piece ten minutes later, when Harry walked in.

 

“Like some toast with your butter there, Ron?” he asked.

 

“Hmm?” Ron looked up, then down, dumbly. He groaned when he saw the inch-thick layer slowly melting, and threw the toast back onto his plate, before taking another, starting the whole process over again.

 

Harry chuckled and sat down opposite him, dressed for Quidditch practice. Harry had been appointed the new Gryffindor captain, and had already led the team to victory in his debut.

 

“Tired?” Harry asked, getting some toast for himself.

 

Ron yawned widely. “What makes you say that?” he grumbled.

 

“Try the fact that you’re using the wrong end of the butter knife.”

 

Ron looked down at his breakfast again, and saw that Harry was right. He was using the handle of the knife to spread butter on his toast. “Oh.”

 

Throwing the toast and offending utensil down in disgust, Ron got up and walked out of the Great Hall, breakfast completely forgotten.

 

“Don’t forget Quidditch practice,” Harry called after him. Ron waved a hand to show he’d heard, but kept walking, muttering to himself.

 

Harry watched his friend leave, puzzled at his behaviour. Shrugging to himself, he settled down to his own breakfast.

 

*~*~*

 

Ron was caught up in his brooding again when he turned a corner in the corridor and almost walked right into Ginny.

 

“Look out, Ron!” she said, sidestepping just in time.

 

“Oh, uh…sorry,” he replied, distractedly.

 

“You look terrible,” she stated plainly.

 

“Thanks ever so much.”

 

She eyed him curiously. Growing up as the only daughter in a house of teenage boys, she instantly picked up on his mood. “Who is she then?”

 

“What?”

 

As much as Ginny wanted Ron and Hermione to admit their feelings for each other, she also knew that Ron had a habit of harbouring hopeless crushes for girls who, in her opinion, were very pretty but usually as thick as two short planks, _a la_ Fleur Delacour.

 

“I’m not stupid, Ron. It’s as plain as day that you’re brooding over some girl. Who is she?”

 

“There is no ‘she’,” said Ron irritated. He hated the fact that his sister could practically read his mind.

 

“Well it isn’t a ‘he’, is it? Mum would probably have a fit.”

 

“Of course it’s not a ‘he’!” he spluttered.

 

“So it is a ‘she’ then?” she smiled. “You’ll get over her.”

 

“I doubt it,” he mumbled.

 

Startled by his own answer, Ron pushed past her, heading off towards the Gryffindor common room.

 

“Well, hurry up then. We have Quidditch practice this morning,” Ginny called to his retreating back. She had become a new Chaser on the team, after the twins, Angelina and Alicia had left school. _How odd,_ she thought to herself, before heading off to the Great Hall for breakfast. The whole conversation was soon forgotten at the prospect of talking to Harry, without her elder brother hanging over her shoulder.

 

*~*~*

 

Ron grumbled all the way back to the common room and was so engrossed in his muttering that he didn’t see the portrait hole open until it was too late.

 

_Crack!_ Ron stumbled and fell with a thud as he collided with the Fat Lady’s picture frame. He clutched his forehead, which had taken the brunt of the impact and cursed loudly.

 

“Ron!”

 

_Brilliant,_ he thought to himself. _Just what I need right now_. He didn’t have to look up to know Hermione was standing over him. _So much for avoiding her._

 

Hermione rushed over to help him up. Ron raised his eyes slowly to meet hers. “Morning, Hermione,” he ventured cautiously. Hermione’s features softened and a smile spread across her face as she looked down at his sheepish grin and the red lump growing on his forehead.

 

“Are you all right?” she asked, extending a hand to help him up.

 

He noticed, for the first time, the small jolt of electricity that sped through his body when their hands touched.

 

Startled by this new development, Ron mumbled his thanks and sidled past her into the common room. As he passed by, he muttered some kind of excuse, which to Hermione sounded like either, “I have Quidditch,” or “I love cabbage.” Knowing his dislike of most vegetables, she decided the former of the two made much more sense.

 

Hermione watched the Fat Lady’s portrait close behind Ron. She shook her head, wondering at Ron’s odd behaviour as she headed to the Great Hall at a fast walk. Hermione would normally head to the library first thing in the morning, only emerging for a quick breakfast just before classes started. However, this particular morning she simply had to talk to Ginny.


	4. Chapter 4 - It's not funny, Ginny!

Hermione reached the Great Hall just in time to see Harry and Ginny leaving, deep in conversation. Hermione couldn’t help but notice they were walking decidedly closer than need be, and as strange as it was, she almost hated to interrupt them.

 

Not far behind them was the rest of the team. Hermione had had to listen to Ron and Harry, and even Ginny occasionally, talk endlessly about the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and so knew them all almost as well as her friends. The only new Chaser, Demelza Robins and Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes, the new Beaters for the team were, by all accounts, coming along well in training. The team had just scraped through with a win against Slytherin, so the entire Gryffindor team had stayed behind over the Christmas holidays to practice for their upcoming match against Hufflepuff in February. The group was almost through the massive doors to the outside when Hermione called out to Ginny

 

“Ginny? Can I have a word with you?”

 

Ginny could see the anxiety in her eyes even from across the room, so she knew it was important. She looked at the older girl quizzically and nodded. She told the others that she would catch up, before moving over to where Hermione stood, agitatedly wringing her hands. If Hermione hadn’t been so preoccupied with her own inner turmoil, she would have noticed Harry touch Ginny’s arm softly as she turned to go or the small smile they shared. She didn’t even notice that Harry stopped to watch Ginny walk over to her and then had had to jog to catch up with the rest of the team. 

 

“Are you alright?” she asked.

 

“Yes. Well, no. I’m…I’m fine. I just…”

 

“What’s wrong, Hermione?”

 

“Oh, Gin, please tell me you haven’t told anyone about what I said last night, because I don’t want anyone to know, and I especially don’t want Ron to find out because someone could find out and tell him, and I don’t know what he would think and I couldn’t bear for us not to be friends anymore and I…”

 

The words came out in a flood, until Hermione noticed the smile spreading across Ginny’s face as she stood there, staring at her.

 

“What is it?” she asked, confused.

 

“I was just wondering how long you were going to make that sentence before you ran out of breath,” she grinned.

 

“This isn’t funny, Ginny!” Hermione said shrilly.

 

“Alright, alright. I know,” Ginny soothed. “Of course, I haven’t told anyone. And I don’t plan to. Who do you think I am? Lavender and Parvati?” She added, naming the two biggest gossips of Gryffindor and possibly the entire school.

 

Hermione smiled in spite of herself. “Thanks Gin. I really appreciate it.”

 

“So you really have a thing for my brother, huh?” Hermione gasped, and looked around quickly to see if anyone was near enough to hear.

 

“Ginny! You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

 

“I have six of them. Even if someone did hear, which they didn’t, who would know which one I was talking about? For all they know, you could have a thing for Percy.” Ginny laughed at the grimace on Hermione’s face.

 

“Besides, it’s the Christmas holidays. Who in their right mind would be out of bed at this time of morning?”

 

“Well, we are,” Hermione said, thoroughly confused.

 

“My point exactly,” Ginny said with a grin.

 

“Wait, what? Well, anyway have you seen Ron this morning? He’s been acting awfully odd.”

 

“Since when does Weasel ever not act oddly?” a familiar drawl said behind them.

 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Bugger off, Malfoy.” It was well known that she had no tolerance for the icy-blonde Slytherin.

 

“Why don’t you make me?” he sneered. He obviously hadn’t learnt his lesson from his last encounter with Ginny. She contemplated whether it was worth getting herself another detention to wipe that smirk off of his face. She debated whether to turn him into a rat or a toad and was reaching for her wand just as Draco was thrown off his feet by a scarlet and gold clad figure rounding the corner at full sprint. That figure was a tousled-haired Ron, who was trying to put on his Quidditch robes as he ran to the pitch. Surprisingly, he was able to stay on his feet.

 

“Ginny? What are you still doing here? We have Quidditch practice, remember?”

 

“Of course I remember. I was the one who told you! Besides, I had to talk to Hermione,” she retorted, gesturing to the other girl, who visibly cringed. “You remember Hermione, don’t you?” she asked sarcastically.

 

“Oh, uh… Hello Hermione.” Ron’s awkwardness had returned with a vengeance.

 

“Hi Ron.” Hermione was equally bad. The tension between the two was palpable. Ginny looked from one to the other, with Hermione developing a sudden fascination with her shoes and Ron running his fingers through his hair and looking everywhere but at the girl in front of him.

 

Hermione was puzzled; she knew why she was feeling awkward, but what was wrong with him. No one spoke for a long moment, before Ron remembered running into something, and looked to see what it was. By this time, Draco had already stood back up and was dusting himself off. His grey eyes sparked with barely contained hatred. It was somewhat concerning though that his hair was still perfectly slicked down, despite the collision.

 

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, Weasel?” Malfoy drawled, itching for a fight.

 

“I’m running into everything today, what makes you so special?”

 

Ginny and Hermione snickered behind him, and Draco scowled at them. His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were conspicuously absent.

 

“You’d better watch yourself, Weasley. One day you and that Mud blood wench will get what’s coming to you.”

 

Hermione and Ginny each grabbed an arm as Ron launched himself at the other boy. Draco jumped backwards, tripped over his robes and, for the second time that morning, found himself on the ground. This time though, he found three wands pointing down at him.

 

“Not so tough without your bodyguards, are you Malfoy” Ginny said.

 

Draco glared at her with contempt. “Wait until I catch you without your’s.”

 

“Is that a threat?” Ron growled, stepping forward and finding restraining hands holding him back again.

 

Draco stood up, facing the three. He glared right at Ginny.

 

“No. It’s a promise.” He turned and stalked away.

 

“Bloody git,” Ron muttered.

 

Ginny shivered as she watched the icy blonde walk away from them. “Forget about him. Come on, we _do_ still have practice.” She grabbed a handful of Ron’s robes and dragged him towards the door.

 

Turning momentarily, Ginny looked back to Hermione who was walking off to the Great Hall for breakfast. She was noticeably less tense than she had been ten minutes ago. Ginny called out to her, “Hermione? This discussion isn’t over.” 

 Hermione frowned and gave Ginny a look that clearly said, _not now!_  

 

“Hermione?” Ginny prompted.       

 

“Fine.”

 

“Good.” Ginny nodded and continued to drag a protesting Ron outside.


	5. Chapter 5 - Never underestimate women

The pair raced each other to the Quidditch pitch, Ron winning narrowly. The rest of the team were already in the air, warming up. Just as Ginny took off to join her fellow Chasers, Ron called out to her, just loud enough so only she could hear.

 “Was that about Hermione being in love with me?”

 

Ginny squeaked as she tumbled from her broom back to the ground. Her trip didn’t go unnoticed by her team mates. Snickers followed her as she stood up, her face flushed pink with embarrassment and anger and dusted herself off.

 

“You ok, Gin?” Harry called, trying to mask the concern on his face. It was becoming fairly obvious to the rest of the Gryffindor population (Seamus and Dean had a betting pool of about twelve Galleons by now), that Harry was beginning to see Ginny Weasley in a different light. That is, not just as Ron’s little sister.

 

“I’m fine, Harry,” she replied, before turning on Ron. “Where did you hear that!?” she hissed.

 

Her brother grinned smugly. “I have my sources.”

 

Ginny advanced on him, wielding her broomstick like a Beaters bat. “Ron, I swear, if you think this is some kind of joke, I’ll…” Ginny didn’t get to finish, as Harry had flown down and landed nimbly beside them.

 

“What’s going on?” He looked from Ginny to Ron and then back again. “Are you two alright?”

 

“Yes. Fine, Harry,” Ginny smiled sweetly, a stark contrast from the daggers she had been giving Ron. Turning back to her brother, she added, “This discussion is not over.” She poked him in the chest to emphasise her point, before taking off swiftly.

 

Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron, who just shook his head as he rubbed his chest, before mounting his broom and following Ginny up into the air. Harry was completely baffled by his friends’ behaviour. He was sure that one of them would tell him what the argument had been about later, but for now he shrugged his shoulders and took off after them to continue with practice.

 

*~*~*

 

Ginny was furious as she took to the air. _If my git-of-a-brother thinks this is some kind of game…_ she snarled in her mind. She heaved the Quaffle she had been carrying at the Quidditch Hoops, deliberately aiming for Ron’s head.

 

“Ginny, calm down!” Ron shouted across the pitch, as he caught the Quaffle, just before it slammed into him. He threw the ball back into play, realising too late, as Ginny intercepted it, that she would do nothing of the sort. She flung it back at Ron, harder than she had the first time. The Quaffle drove into Ron’s chest, winding him. The other Chasers and the two Beaters hovered several metres away, quietly wagering which of the Weasleys would win.

 

Harry watched the pair from afar. He rolled his eyes and flew down to break it up. Ron and Ginny were, by now, locked in battle, as Ginny pelted Quaffles and Ron fended them off. Harry was actually tempted to let them continue, as they showed off their Chaser and Keeper skills at their best.

 

“Ginny!” Harry yelled, just as she was about to throw yet another missile at her brother.

 

“What!?” Spinning madly, she threw the Quaffle, so that Harry had to duck quickly out of the way. Ginny gasped, “Sorry, Harry.”

 

Harry flew over to her. “That’s enough, Gin. Go take a shower and cool off. Whatever Ron’s done, take it out on him later. It’s too late in the year to find a new Keeper,” he said quietly, with half a smile curving his lips in the way Ginny loved.

 

Contemplating protest, Ginny opened her mouth to argue, only to find Harry’s hand over her lips to stop her.

 

“He deserves it,” she mumbled into his palm, tickling him with her lips.

 

Harry blushed slightly at the sensation. “I’m sure he does, but later. Go,” he replied, retrieving his hand, blushing again albeit briefly at touching her, before flying off to resume practice.

 

Ginny resigned to her fate and descended from the air in the direction of the showers. It didn’t occur to her until later that Ron hadn’t actually done anything…yet.

 

*~*~*

 

“What’s Ginny so angry about anyway?” Harry asked Ron when practice had finished. He and Ron were the last ones left on the field packing away the Quidditch equipment.

 

“Harry, I haven’t done anything,” Ron protested.

 

“No? I’m sure she just wanted to take your head off on a whim then.”

 

“I just told her I had heard something and she completely over reacted. Honestly, some people…”

 

Harry gave him an odd sideways glance. “You have no idea how much you sounded like Hermione, just then.”

 

“Hermione?” Ron paled. “What about Hermione? This has nothing to do with her.”

 

Harry looked at his friend as if he had grown another head, pondering his odd reaction. “I just said you sounded like her.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

They finished packing the equipment in silence and strode off back to the castle, until Ron asked nervously, “Do you like Hermione, Harry?”

 

“Sure, she’s one of my best friends.”

 

“No, not like that. Do you like her as…” Ron gulped, “as more than a friend?” Ron could barely look at Harry for fear of his answer, but when he did he was startled to see amusement in Harry’s eyes.

 

“You mean, the way _you_ like her? No, I don’t like her like that,” he replied mischievously.

 

“I don’t love Hermione.”

 

“I never said that.”

 

“You were thinking it. I don’t love Hermione!”

 

“Liar,” Harry grinned.

 

“Yeah, well, so what if I am!?” Ron unknowingly admitted. His crystalline blue eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “I’m…I’m in love with Hermione?”

 

Harry just grinned and clapped him on the back. “Head over heels, mate.”

 

“Oh. Right.” Ron ran his fingers through his hair. “What do I do?”

 

“As if I would know. You should probably just tell her.”

 

Ron turned this over in his mind. He already knew Hermione loved him back. “Or…” he said, grinning wolfishly. “I could make things more interesting.”

 

The grin on Harry’s face was replaced with confusion. “What?”

 

By now they had reached the castle and stopped in the main entrance. Ron glanced around quickly, to see if anyone was listening. “Last night, I overheard Ginny and Hermione talking. Hermione said…she said that…” Ron stumbled for the words before blurting, “She said she’s in love with me.”

 

“And Ginny was angry at you, because you told her you knew?”

 

Ron nodded. He was starting to wonder how Harry somehow always managed to turn the conversation onto Ginny.

 

A concerned look crossed Harry’s face. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘make it interesting’?”

 

“Well, when I was listening—”

 

“Spying, you mean,” Harry interrupted.

 

“Ok, when I was _spying_ , she didn’t exactly seem like she was in any hurry to tell me about it. I just thought it would be interesting to see how long it takes before she cracks. I mean, really,” Ron said loftily. “How can she possibly resist me?”

 

Harry snorted. “Whatever, mate. But remember: first, don’t hurt her or I may have to hurt you.” Ron looked sceptically at the shorter boy and grinned.

 

“And second: never underestimate women.”

 

Ron nodded, still smiling at the thought of Harry beating him up, and the pair walked away to the Great Hall for dinner.


	6. Chapter 6 - Beat him at his own game

Hermione was walking through the entrance hall after a quick dinner when she heard voices coming from the main entrance of Hogwarts castle. She continued on her way but stopped short when she caught some of their conversation.

 

“...I'm in love with Hermione?”

 

Immediately, the blood drained from Hermione's face as she listened to the two boys' conversation. She knew that voice. Had Ron just said he loved her?

 

“...overheard Ginny and Hermione talking...”

 

_No! Not that!_ Hermione shrieked in her mind. _Please don't let him have heard!_  
“...she said she's in love with me.”

 

_Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!_

 

“I could make things more interesting...see how long it takes before she cracks.”

 

Hermione gasped and dropped her books. The sound reverberated through the old stone halls, but luckily the boys didn't seem to hear. “This cannot be happening,” Hermione whispered under her breath as she quickly picked up the heavy books she had been carrying, and raced up to the common room. Gasping the password to the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione tore through the common room and up the stairs before any of the other Gryffindors around realised she had been there. She collapsed onto her bed, terrified and out of breath.  
  
 

Ginny had just been coming down from her own dormitory to go to dinner, when Hermione raced past her nearly knocking her down. Ginny immediately turned around and followed Hermione up the stairs. Tapping on the door, Ginny called out gingerly.

 

“Hermione, are you ok?”

 

“No, I'm really, really not.”

 

Ginny pushed the door open to find Hermione hugging her pillow and rocking back and forth on her bed. Ginny had only ever seen her friend in such distress once before, and that was when shock set in after a Death Eater attack the previous year. She immediately went over to comfort her. Pulling the older girl into a hug, Ginny was startled to feel her sobbing quietly.

 

“Oh, Hermione, what happened?”

 

“R-Ron, he...”

 

Ginny sighed. “Oh no. What did he do now?”

 

Hermione repeated everything that she had just heard in the entrance hall. Ginny decided that this probably wasn't the best time to tell her friend that she had known Ron knew.

 

Hermione's sobs lessened and were soon replaced by hot rage.

 

“How dare he?! Turning this into a game. That...that bastard!” The older girl jumped up and started pacing her room, muttering under her breath. “That prat will pay...How dare he...absolutely outrageous...couldn't just tell me...normal person would...must get him back!”

 

Ginny could almost hear the gears ticking over in Hermione's mind. She started at Hermione's exclamation.

 

“That's it!”

 

“What's it?” she asked warily.

 

Hermione spun to face the girl on the bed. “I know how I will get him back for this. If he wants to play games, then I'll play too.”

 

“Hermione, what on earth are you talking about?”

 

“I'm saying, I'm going to beat him at his own game. You and he haven't gone home for Christmas, right?”

  
Ginny nodded her agreement. “Well, clearly not.”

 

“Well, the castle is practically empty. I'm going to drive Ron crazy, until he begs me to be with him.”

  
“Hermione, isn't that a bit drastic? I mean, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”  
 

The warning went unheeded as Hermione's mind raced with plans of driving Ron insane. Even though Hermione was not very experienced in the world of the opposite sex, she was still female and not without her guiles. As smart a witch as she was though, Hermione had no idea the trouble she was about to get herself into. 

 

*~*~*

 

Hermione waited until Lavender and Parvati had both left the common room for bed before feigning exhaustion and following them upstairs. Just as she reached the sixth year girls’ dormitory, she tripped on the last stair and flew into the door. As she lay on the floor, dazed, she heard a voice calling out, getting louder as they got closer to the door.

 

“I told you before, Seamus. You aren’t getting your Christmas present early, no matter how much you beg and plead, so just, go—oh my!” Lavender opened the door and rather than a horny Seamus as she was expecting, she saw Hermione picking herself up off the ground. Her face instantly went the same shade as her name. “Um, hi…Hermione. What a…surprise.”

 

“You do know that boys can’t actually get up the stairs to the girls dormitories, don’t you?”

 

“They can’t?” Lavender was visibly puzzled. “Hmm, now that I think of it, it is usually me that goes to him, not the other way around.”

 

Hermione stared dumbstruck at the other girl. “Lavender, I didn’t really need to know that.”

 

Lavender blushed again. “Why are you knocking on your own door, Hermione?”

 

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Hermione snapped.

 

Lavender was taken aback Hermione’s harsh tone.

 

“Sorry. I actually need your help.” The pleading look in her eyes told Lavender that Hermione was quite serious. She ushered the girl into the room, looking up and down the staircase quickly, before shutting and locking the dormitory door. She led Hermione to her bed, made obvious by the painfully bright mauve duvet. After she had sat down and made herself comfortable, Lavender faced Hermione.

 

“Now, what exactly do you need my help for?”

 

Hermione swallowed nervously. “Well, it’s kind of…it’s sort of…well, it’s like this…”

 

“Hermione, you’re going to have to speed this up,” Lavender interrupted.

 

Hermione blushed and looked at her hands which were folded nervously in her lap.

 

“Well, to tell you the truth, it’s kind of related to what you were yelling through the door,” she continued quietly.

 

Lavender coloured again but to a much lesser degree. “What about it?”

 

“Well, it’s about…well, you may not believe this,” Hermione took a deep breath, before continuing, “I have feelings for Ron Weas—”

 

Lavender cut her off with a squeal. “ ‘Vati, you owe me three Galleons,” she called across the room.

 

“Excuse me?” Hermione stared at Lavender blankly.

 

“Oh no! Hermione, you couldn’t have waited two more weeks?!” Parvati Patil’s voice called across the room.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, it’s ok, Hermione,” Lavender explained. “Me and Parvati—”

 

“Parvati and I,” Hermione corrected automatically.

 

Lavender rolled her eyes. “Yes, Parvati and _I_ had a bet going on that you and Ron would realise the UST between you two. I bet that you would figure it out before the year was over.”

 

“You did what?” Hermione shrilled. “And what on earth is UST?”

 

“Unresolved Sexual Tension,” Parvati supplied, as she came over to join the two girls on Lavender’s bed. Hermione just stared at them in shock.

 

“Does everyone know my business?” she finally asked.

 

“Yes,” the two girls replied in unison as Parvati begrudgingly handed over three gold coins which Lavender eagerly pocketed.

 

“Now, what do you need my help for, if you’ve already realised that you’re in love with Ron?”

 

Hermione quickly detailed Ron’s plan to toy with her and her own counterattack. “The only problem is I know nothing about seducing men. There aren’t exactly a multitude of references in the school library about this sort of thing; which is why I need you two.”

 

“Hmm, this is quite a predicament for you to be in,” Lavender said. “What do you think, ‘Vati?”

 

“I think we should teach her some skills. She’s a fast learner and studies well.” 

 

Hermione grinned, somewhat nervously. “What skills, exactly?”

 

“The fine art of seduction,” Lavender and Parvati said in unison.

 

“Uh huh…”

 

“But not tonight,” Lavender said, abruptly. “Training starts tomorrow, bright and early.” Lavender then began climbing under her purple bed covers.

 

“So, like…seven?” Hermione suggested. Parvati snorted.

 

 “Try ten,” she said, as if the answer had been glaringly obvious.

 

Hermione nodded agreement. “Right. Well, thank you. This really means a lot to me.”

 

“Don’t thank us yet,” Parvati said as she made her way back to her own bed. Hermione walked over to her own four-poster. Remembering something just as she reached the bed, she turned and called back, “Oh, and Lavender?”

 

“Mm-hmm?”

 

“What _did_ you get Seamus for Christmas?”

 

Lavender chuckled softly. “Chocolate body paint.”

 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the thought and without another word she retreated behind the drapes on her own bed.


	7. Chapter 7 - Midnight Rendezvous

Ginny was worried about her best friend and her brother’s antics, and realised she had to discuss this with the only other person who would be caught in the whole mess: Harry. As she slipped quietly out of the noisy common room, Ginny smiled softly at the thought that barely six months ago, she would have been terrified at the idea of simply talking to the legendary Harry Potter. The Harry Potter who had saved her life. The Harry Potter who had saved Ron and Hermione countless times (such is the fate of the friends of a legend). Ginny snorted, knowing that although he had been dubbed a hero, a legend and many other less flattering labels, Harry had never done those things deliberately. In his own words, “These things just seem to happen.”

 

Ginny knew the boy behind the so-called legend. She knew he had fears, ambitions and dreams just like everyone else. She also knew that whenever he was near, her breath quickened and her heart beat a little faster. During the summer holidays six months previous, she had finally built up the courage to talk to him, and it didn’t take long for the pair to become solid friends and much more. That is, after Ginny realised Harry was a normal teenager like any other, despite his ability to attract danger from the most unlikely sources, and Harry had realised that Ginny was not just one of the brainless followers that idolised him for something he didn’t even remember and often wished had not happened at all.

 

Ginny made her way through the castle, ever cautious for any teachers or Argus Filch the caretaker and his mangy cat, Mrs Norris. There was not much time before curfew and Ginny couldn’t afford getting caught out of bed again this week. She crept across the entrance hall and quietly slipped out of the large double doors that led outside. The cold air stung her cheeks and took her breath away. She gazed at the soft, white blanket that covered everything. The first snow of the season had always been Ginny’s favourite. She grinned as she stepped, slowly, almost delicately, into the cold cover, taking great care to not mar the scenery too much with her footprints. It was only a couple of inches deep, but Ginny could tell that by morning there would be drifts of two or three feet, perfect for a snowball fight. She smiled to herself again, as she made her way over to the Quidditch pitch. She knew that was where Harry would be. He was always out practicing, every night, come rain, hail or wind. Or snow, apparently.

 

Ginny scooped up a handful of the clean white snow and started moulding it into a ball. She entered the Quidditch pitch and stood on the sidelines, watching the familiar figure zigzagging across it. She waited until the blur came within range and let loose with her snowball, hitting him square in the back. The flyer let out a yelp before spinning quickly, wand in hand, arm outstretched, ready to hex whatever danger approached. Ginny smiled to herself.

 

_He looks awfully pretty when he’s trying to be menacing,_ she thought to herself. Nonetheless, she raised her hands in surrender and stepped out of the shadows. It would never do for him to hex her, particularly for a case of mistaken identity.

 

 “Lumos.” Harry illuminated his wand and instantly the Quidditch pitch was bathed in a bright glow. He recognised Ginny instantly and a grin broke over his face. He flew down and landed a few feet away, nimbly jumping off his broom in a movement that belied his strength, despite his lean appearance.

 

“What brings you out here so late?” he asked, slightly breathless but still trying to sound casual. Whenever she was close to him, Ginny could always affect him in ways no one else could. His heart beat faster, not just from his late night workout, and he became nervous for no apparent reason. He ran his clammy fingers through his hair.

 

Ginny smiled in response to his actions. While he did well at trying to hide it, better than most in fact, she was well aware of the effect she had on him, and did nothing to quell his anxiety. She took a few steps closer.

 

“I just came to see my favourite Quidditch captain _hard_ at work. You’re quite skilled at handling that broomstick of yours.” She grinned as he swallowed.

 

“You’re pretty good on a broomstick yourself,” he replied with a grin. Banter and innuendoes often flew between the pair, though only when there was no one else in earshot. Harry held his Firebolt out to the side and hugged Ginny warmly with his other arm.

 

“I actually came to talk to you about something. I think it’s pretty important,” Ginny said, when he released her. They turned and started walking back towards the castle.

 

“Go on,” Harry encouraged.

 

“It involves our two best friends, in particular, Ron’s idea of turning his quite obvious love for Hermione into a game.”

 

Harry glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. “How did you know about that?”

 

“Of all people, Hermione told me. She overheard you and Ron talking in the entrance hall earlier tonight.”

 

“Ah. That can’t be good.”

 

“Oh, it gets better. Hermione has decided to retaliate. Fight fire with fire, that type of thing.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Which means,” Ginny continued, “someone must help our two lovesick friends, before they completely destroy their chances of getting together. Because if I know Ron and Hermione like I think I do, they’re just going to mess it up.”

 

“And I suppose you are just the person to help them?”

 

Ginny turned to him and grinned. “I got you, didn’t I?”  She leaned up and softly brushed his lips with her own. She grinned up into his face and wiggled her eyebrows at him. They had reached the castle by now, and they dashed up the stairs, through the large wooden entrance doors. Laughing together, yet trying to keep quiet, they stumbled into one of the many niches along the wall, Ginny giggling as she pulled Harry along. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest as she kissed him softly. Ginny moved with him as he backed up towards the bench at the back of the niche. She laughed against his lips when his legs hit the bench and he collapsed onto it, pulling her down with him. Ginny ended up sitting on his lap, as he cradled her in his arms. Ginny ran her hands over his strong arms and chest, marvelling in his lean strength and the play of muscle under her fingers, before she wound her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to meet hers again.

 

Harry loved this passionate side of Ginny. He revelled in the fact that this was a side few others had even seen, let alone shared as he was doing now. He smiled into her kisses and shivered when she started winding her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. His own hand had made its way up her back, entwining his fingers in Ginny’s luxuriant red tresses, loving the softness. She shivered slightly at the sensation of his fingers trailing up her back, barely skimming the surface, then entwining them in her hair. Both he and Ginny longed for these brief encounters alone, when they could focus on each other without a care in the world.

 

Their kisses lessened slightly and the pair came up for breath. Ginny leaned her forehead against Harry’s and sighed softly. Harry pushed her back gently so he could look into her face.

 

“You ok?” he asked, brushing a loose tendril of hair from her face. It had taken a while for him to become comfortable touching her, but now he found that he couldn’t help himself. The tentative touches had soon given way to more confident caresses, and now he couldn’t get enough of her. He adored the way Ginny fit perfectly in his arms, how sweet she tasted, how she could kiss him with such fire and passion or so soft and sensuous whenever they were alone. He looked into her chocolate eyes and was surprised to see a troubled expression there.

 

“Harry, I hate all this hiding around. We’ve been together for six months, for goodness sake. It tears me apart when I see you in the corridors or in the Great Hall, and I can’t touch you, or kiss you, like other couples. Why all the secrecy? Why can’t we tell anyone? ” she whispered, a single tear trailing down her cheek. She clung to him with a sudden fragility that Harry had never felt before. He stroked her hair gently.

 

“I hate it, too. I hate that we can only be alone together for a few stolen moments. But I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 

Ginny pushed off his chest. “Harry, don’t start on that Voldemort-shit again.”  Her tone was suddenly fierce. “Don’t go spouting those high and mighty ideas that someone will use me to get to you. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

 

“I know.” Harry sighed, brushing a lock of her hair out of her face and cupping her cheek in his hand. “I know you can take care of yourself.”  Harry surrendered the argument. He had meant it when he had said he hated hiding their relationship. “I think you’re right. It’s been far too long.”

 

“That’s just not accept ––what? Wait, you’re agreeing with me?” Ginny was visibly confused. She had been prepared to put in a lot more persuasion.

 

“Yes, we should finally, ‘come out of the broom-closet,’ so to speak,” he said, naming one of their frequent retreats. “How about Christmas Day? That way Ron will be in a good mood and less likely to murder me.” He grinned at the startled look on Ginny’s face. He had also prepared for this particular argument, knowing she would have brought it up sooner rather than later.

 

“You mean no more hiding?” she inquired, suspiciously. “We would be free to do whatever we want, wherever we want, and spectators be damned?”

 

Harry chuckled. “Well, I think shagging on the breakfast table would be taking it a bit far— ” he winced as Ginny thumped his shoulder. “But yes, if that’s what you want.”

 

“But is it what you want too?”

 

Harry sighed and looked away. She could always see right through him. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t worry that Voldemort would use you to hurt me.” Ginny started to protest, and Harry put his fingers to her lips. “Let me finish,” he said, but waited until she nodded before removing his hand. “People seem to get hurt just by being near me. But I know that we’re all going to get caught up in this war, sooner or later, whether we like it or not. Voldemort won’t give us a choice. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you. I want to keep you safe. I want you to be happy. I want to be the one who makes you happy. And I want the whole world to know that you’re mine and that I’m yours. I want you to know that…” Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly, before continuing in barely more than a whisper, “I love you.”

 

Harry couldn’t bear to look at her. He hadn’t meant to say as much out loud, but now that he had he was both deliriously happy and terrified at the same time. _We’ve only been going out for a few months, what were you thinking? What if she doesn’t feel the same way?_ The silence seemed to stretch out for ages and the only sound was their combined breathing. Then with a small squeal Ginny threw herself forward, hugging him close to her. She released him only long enough to press her lips to his again and again, kissing him with everything she had.

 

“You know I love you too, right?” She was breathless from the kissing, and her lips were red and slightly swollen. Her cheeks glowed pink and her hair was tousled where he had been running his hands through it, and Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful. She loved him. He knew she wasn’t just saying because he had. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers brushed lightly across his brow, hear it on her voice. Harry pulled her close to him, before seeking out her lips with his own, kissing her softly, gently, but with so much love that Ginny felt she could cry.

 

She kissed him back with all of the joy that came from knowing that Harry loved her — that he had even said it out loud. Their kisses took on even more fervour as she realised that this would be one of their last clandestine interludes. _Well,_ she thought wickedly, as her tongue duelled fiercely with his, _the last_ forced _one, anyway._ The pair came up for breath, laughing softly, panting heavily and generally enjoying the other’s company and touch as they held onto one another. Perhaps they would not have been as carefree had they known they were being watched.


	8. Chapter 8 - Watching

Draco Malfoy hissed to himself when he saw the couple embrace. He’d been on his way to Slytherin House in the dungeons of the castle when he had heard laughter in the entrance hall. Eager to make trouble for whoever it was, he had followed the voices but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the familiar long, flame-red hair. 

 

The pair were too caught up with each other to have heard the sharp intake of breath from the other side of the room, as he realised exactly who it was. _Perfect Potter and Ginny-bloody-Weasley_. He would love nothing more than turning them in to Filch, but he found he couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from them, couldn’t force his legs to move and take him away from the sickening scene before him. All Draco could do was stand there and watch as Harry and Ginny embraced and kissed and murmured to each other, staring into each others eyes.

 

Any other person watching the scene would have turned away and given the couple the privacy they obviously thought they had, but Draco continued to watch, his eyes boring into Ginny’s back. He saw her give a small shiver and smiled slightly to himself. He liked to think that he had elicited that reaction from her.

 

Their whispers burned into his ears from across the entrance hall, barely audible at all until he heard Ginny’s voice quite clearly.

 

“You know I love you too, right?” He clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. Gritting his teeth, he finally forced his legs into motion, turned and stalked away down to the dungeons.

 As he crossed through the Slytherin common room his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle looked to their leader for any orders. He shook his head and continued up to his private dormitory room. The other two boys returned to their game of chess. Not playing properly of course, but deliberately sending the pieces to be crushed. They laughed piggishly at the chess pieces’ feeble attempts to defend themselves from their inevitable doom.

 

When Draco reached his room, he started pacing back and forth, following a well-worn path in the shiny granite floor. He cracked his knuckles and ground his teeth, the very picture of restrained anger. He took up his wand, cast a Silencing Charm on the room and then threw the wand against a wall with a grunt.

 

“That little slut!”  he raged. “Of course the little whore would go after Potter. And she got him.  She could get anything she bloody-well wanted with that hair, those breasts.” He sighed to himself as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Truth be told, Draco Malfoy was overwhelmingly, inescapably infatuated with one Ginny Weasley. In a horrible twist of fate, he had fallen hopelessly in love with one of his greatest enemies.  While Ginny herself was not a particular adversary to his family, she was a Weasley. Or so his father was constantly drilling into his head. Draco was to have nothing to do with that family. Not used to feeling any sentiment for his peers besides utter loathing, Draco reacted to his unsolicited emotions for Ginny Weasley in the only way he knew: resentment and anger.

 

“The scheming wench must have known I was there. Yes, she knew and she was flaunting her inaccessibility deliberately, just to spite me. Of course, that must be it.” It never occurred to Draco that the couple simply loved each other and were caught in the moment. Such rationalities were non-existent in the sixteen-year-old’s twisted mind. He was certain that Ginny Weasley knew of his feelings for her. Why else would she treat him the way she did?  No, to Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley knew all too well how he felt for her, and she rejected him by latching onto his insufferable rival, Harry Potter. 

 

Draco growled out loud at the memory of the two together, her small, delicate hands roaming Harry’s body and Harry’s running over her back, her thighs, squeezing her round buttocks softly. Draco stopped pacing and his eyes drifted shut and it did not take a great stretch of imagination to see himself in Potter’s place, his lips trailing her neck, his hands caressing her lithe body, feeling the flatness of her taut stomach, kneading her perfect breasts and more. His eyes flashed open when he noticed his own hands moving, and blood rushing away from his head to other extremities on his body.

__

_I need a shower,_ he thought grimly, feeling a familiar twinge. _A long,_ cold _shower_. He pulled his shirt over his head as he fled to his private bathroom.

 

*~*~*

 

Draco emerged from the shower, very much more relaxed. However, his state of relaxation went out the window, when he realised he was not alone.

 

“What are you doing in here?”

 

Alyssia Avery was draped across Draco’s bed, and she looked up when she heard him enter. She smiled sweetly at him, holding up the ancient-looking book that she had been thumbing through. Draco visibly flinched as he recognised it instantly. He didn’t need to see the title to know that she was holding up _Curses to Maim and Murder_ , which he had stolen that summer from the library in the Malfoy manor.

 

“Now Draco, what would you be doing with this, I wonder? I hardly think this is from the Hogwarts recommended reading list.”

 

Draco struggled to regain his composure, which was made a great deal more difficult due to the fact that he was still just wearing a towel. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the girl.

 

“Let me rephrase my question: what the fuck are you doing in here, Alyssia?”

 

Alyssia flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and looked up at him, blinking her flinty grey eyes at him, in an innocent way that she must have been practicing for some time. Her full pink lips curved into a pout.

 

“Not happy to see me? Wishing it was someone else here in your bed? Do you wish it was Pansy here instead maybe?”

 

She drew her wand across her face, and rather unexpectedly, her features began to change. Her honey blonde hair darkened to a mousy brown and her sharp cheekbones and chin became rounder, until standing before Draco was the spitting image of Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl who had been chasing after Draco for years. Despite his great shock at finding this girl in his room, he was nonetheless thoroughly impressed with her advanced Transfiguration skills.

 

Alyssia smiled at the grimace on Draco’s face as he recognised her new appearance.

 

“Maybe not Pansy. Someone else then?” Again she moved her wand across her face, and her features began to take on a different cast. This time though, her brown hair reddened to a bright auburn, freckles sprinkled across her nose and her eyes darkened to a mahogany brown.

 

“Maybe this is a bit more to your liking?”

 

Draco’s eyes widened and his adam’s apple bobbed wildly. Alyssia, now looking remarkably like Ginny Weasley, rose from the bed and sauntered across the room towards him. Unconsciously, Draco backed up until his back hit the wall behind him.

 

“What…What are you doing in here?” he stuttered again, as she continued to advance on him until they were face to face. Alyssia looked so much like Ginny that it was frightening…and incredibly hot.

 

Despite the cold shower he had just taken, Draco’s body reacted instantly, and he flushed red as he realised his towel did little to hide his arousal. Before he could stop himself his eyes raked over her body, lingering on her legs; exposed by the short school skirt she was wearing, her breasts, which were straining against the school blouse and her face, which was almost indistinguishable from Ginny herself.

 

“You haven’t got the freckles right,” he blurted.

 

“What?” Of all the responses Alyssia had imagined her taking on Ginny’s appearance would elicit from Draco, that had not been one of them. She stepped away from him and was startled back into her original features.

 

With no small amount of relief, Draco found that he could breathe again and his brain began to function.

 

“I said, you didn’t get the freckles right.” he repeated.

 

Alyssia rolled her eyes at him. “There is something sweet, but also very disturbing about the fact that you knew that.”

 

“Well, as impressive as that display was, I’m sure you didn’t come in here just to show off your Transfiguration technique, so I’ll ask you again. What are you doing here?”

 

Alyssia grabbed a pair of discarded trousers off of the floor and threw them at Draco.

 

“Get dressed. I have a proposition for you.”

 

He caught the trousers as they hit him in the chest but didn’t move to put them on.

 

“What kind of proposition?” he asked.

 

“The kind that will not be discussed while you are half-naked,” she insisted. “So hurry up and get dressed.”

 

“You’re a bossy thing, aren’t you?”

 

“And you ask too many questions,” she replied, smiling sweetly.

 

He stared at her meaningfully, raising one eyebrow.

 

“What is it now?” she asked exasperated.

 

“I’m not getting dressed with you just sitting there watching me!” he replied indignantly.

 

“Oh Draco, I think we’re well past being shy, don’t you?” she grinned cheekily at him. He could practically feel her gaze as her eyes roamed up and down his half-naked body. She made no effort to hide it and Draco blushed slightly. He was fit from his years of playing Quidditch, but that didn’t stop him from being self-conscious.

 

“I highly doubt that you were ever shy,” he told her dryly.

 

Alyssia rolled her eyes at him again, but turned her back on him anyway. Draco pulled on the trousers that Alyssia had thrown at him, thoroughly confused by this turn of events, but intensely curious to hear what she had come to say. He grabbed a jumper out of the dresser and pulled it on quickly; standing half-naked in a draughty castle was not comfortable.

 

Fully clothed, he sat down in the chair at his desk. “Ok. Now, what are you on about?”


	9. Chapter 9 - "She knows"

Ron raced down the corridor, trying to catch up to the receding bushy-haired figure up ahead. He had to catch her. She needed to know the truth. 

 “Hermione! Wait!” His voice echoed down the passage, stopping the girl in her tracks.

 

“Ron?” She turned to look at him. Ron halted in front of her, slightly breathless from his mad dash through the halls.

 

“Hermione, I…”

 

Now face to face, Ron’s courage fled. His mind raced as he scrambled for something, anything to say, rejecting one thing after another. Hermione stood silently, her eyes searching his for the answer to the question she was silently asking him.

 

Hesitating a moment longer, Ron reached across the gap between them, cupped her cheeks in his hands and brought his lips crashing down onto hers.

 

Ron bolted upright in bed with a yell, gasping for breath. Sunlight streamed through the window, making him squint as he ran his fingers through his hair. He swung his legs from beneath his twisted sheets, and placed them gingerly on the cold flagstones.

 

“What am I going to do?” he wondered aloud, as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

 

“No idea, but whatever it is, you’d better think of it fast,” a familiar voice replied from the next four-poster bed.

 

“What are you on about, Harry?” Ron got up and moved to the trunk at the end of his bed, where he started looking for some trousers. “What time is it anyway?”

 

“Almost noon,” Harry replied, distractedly. He was closely examining his Firebolt for any more loose tail twigs, after he had given it a thorough servicing. Satisfied that the broomstick was in excellent condition, Harry went to his own trunk to put the servicing kit away. Then he stood back, waiting for Ron.   

 

“It’s about time you got out of bed anyway.”

 

“Why? It’s Saturday.” Ron had finally found some clean trousers and was started pulling them on.

 

“Because I have it on fairly good authority that Hermione is up with Lavender, Parvati and Ginny right now, getting advice about what to do about you,” Harry told him.

 

“Doing what about me?”

 

“Hermione knows, Ron.”

 

“What!?” Ron tried to spin around to face Harry, a process made impossible by the trousers currently around his knees. He toppled sideways to land on the floor with a loud thud and even louder cursing.

 

Harry walked slowly around to the far side of Ron’s bed and stifled a laugh. Ron was laying flat on his back, trousers still around his knees, breathing hard.

 

“What exactly does Hermione know?”

 

“She apparently heard us talking in the entrance hall last night. She knows what you’re planning.”

 

“Who told you this?”

 

“Don’t worry about that, but the source is very reliable,” Harry said, barely controlling the misty grin that threatened to spread across his face.

 

Ron glanced at him suspiciously before he yanked his trousers up and stood. “Well, if she knows everything, why is she up with Lavender, Parvati and Ginny?”

 

“Who knows? Probably to work out a way to, well, fight fire with fire?”

 

“I get Lavender and Parvati. Why Ginny? What does she know about blokes?”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Harry muttered under his breath.

 

“What?”

 

Startled, Harry quickly covered up. “I said, ‘one can only surmise.’”

 

Ron furrowed his brow. “Ok, so what am I going to do?” He began pacing across the room.

 

“Well, I’m going to go with telling her the truth,” Harry suggested.

 

“Yeah, ok. We’ll call that Plan B,” Ron said with a laugh.

 

Harry rolled his eyes, watching Ron walk back and forth, deep in thought.

 

“Wait! I’ve got it… They know that I know Hermione…has feelings for me, right?” Ron found that it was quite difficult to say this out loud, but now that he had, it felt good.

 

“Yeah?” Harry asked warily.

 

“But they don’t know, that I know they know. Harry, you can’t tell anyone about this.”

 “Couldn’t if I wanted to. Believe me.”

 

“No, I’m serious, not even this mysterious ‘source’ of yours.”

 

“Oh, well I tell her everything.”

 

“Oh, so it’s a _female_ source…Well done, mate. Who is it?”

 

Harry’s face reddened. In a desperate bid to change the subject, Harry went on, “So, how’s the plan coming?”

 

Ron ceased his pacing, only to start thumping his head against a bed post.

 

“I. Have. No. Idea,” he replied between thumps.

 

“Why don’t you wait to see what the girls come up with?”

 

Ron stopped banging his head to stare at Harry. He now had a bright red mark in the middle of his forehead.

 

“They’re girls. What’s the worst they can do?”

 

*~*~*

 

Lavender and Parvati stood back and admired their handiwork. Hermione hadn’t allowed them to do anything too radical in their ‘makeover’ but they had, in their own words, ‘done some tweaking.’

 

“I look ridiculous.”

 

“Don’t be silly, Hermione. You look great. And more importantly, you are going to drive Ron nuts.”

 

Hermione normally wore her billowing black school robes fully buttoned with a plain white blouse and knee-length, plaid skirt underneath. The basic outfit was the same but she couldn’t deny they had taken a somewhat more flirtatious style to them. The black school robes were now completely unbuttoned (Lavender and Parvati had not been able to convince her to lose them completely), the blouse was now two sizes smaller and undone to the third button and the hemline of the skirt had risen several inches. Her normally bushy hair had been tamed to just wavy, and while she had outright refused to apply makeup as the other girls had suggested, she had performed a few general complexion spells. While the changes weren’t exactly drastic, they did highlight Hermione’s natural slim but curvy figure, accentuating her long legs and modest bust.

 

Hermione clutched her all-covering school robes around her now considerably more revealing clothing. “Are you both sure about this?”

 

“Hermione, the question is this: do you want to beat Ron at his own game or what?” Lavender came over and put her arm around Hermione’s shoulders. 

 

“Trust us, show a little bit of skin and the boys become putty.”

 

“Yeah, you should know,” Parvati snickered from across the room.

 

Lavender shot a glare at her best friend. “Do you really want to get into that now, Miss Lost-her-bra-in-the-Herbology-glasshouse?” she said, with a raise of the eyebrows

 

Parvati blushed vividly, which only got worse when Hermione turned and exclaimed, eyes wide, “That was yours?”

 

“What?!”

 

“The boys found a pink bra in Greenhouse Seven a couple of weeks ago. They ended up using it to slingshot snowballs at each other. They called it the Double-D-Double-Launcher or something stupid like that.”

 

Parvati threw herself on her bed shrieking, while Lavender clutched her stomach as she doubled over with laughter.

 

Lavender finally composed herself, wiping tears from her eyes as she turned back to Hermione. “Now do you remember what we taught you earlier? You’re going to be out there on your own. Are you ready for this?”

 

Hermione opened her school robes and gazed apprehensively at her new look in the mirror. She took a deep breath.

 

“I sure hope so.”


	10. Chapter 10 - Playing with Fire

After lunch, Ron made his way to the library. Doing homework was usually the last thing Ron wanted to do during the Christmas holidays, particularly with only two days to go before his favourite day of the year. However, Hermione’s constant nagging about the N.E.W.T’s coming up had actually made an impression on him. More deviously, he also knew that Hermione would most likely be there, and he could begin to drive Hermione mad. The only problem was he had no idea how. 

 

Of course, Ron had only just realised this, and unknown to him, this had actually meant that Hermione had several hours of a head start. He had vague ideas of talking and flirting with Hermione (although he was clueless as to where to start) when he headed to the library that morning.  

 

 

Ron knew Hermione’s preferred study table. It was hidden behind many book shelves, well at the back of the library, in front of one of the large windows. There she would sit and study for hours, sometimes bathed in the morning sunshine streaming through the window behind her. He loved to watch her on days like that, when the bright light would highlight the chestnut streaks in her hair.  

 

 

 

As Ron set his books on the large table, he realised that the view out this particular window also included the Quidditch pitch. He could see small yellow and black figures as the Hufflepuff Quidditch team practiced in the fine Saturday weather. Ron couldn’t help but think to himself with a chuckle, _they need all the practice they can get_. Gryffindor had thrashed Hufflepuff in the match only three weeks previously.

    

For once he had actually arrived before Hermione and spread his text books in a wide semi-circle around his chair. He looked at the mountain of work before him, sighed, and sat down to start on his Potions essay which was literally _30 Potions containing_ … and each student had been given a different ingredient to prevent the students copying from one another. 

 

 

 

The irony was not lost on Ron, when he was told his ingredient to research would be bicorn horn and that Harry had got boomslang skin. Apparently Snape had still not forgotten the incident in their second year when Harry and Ron had created a diversion in Potions class so Hermione could steal these supplies from his personal stores for the Polyjuice potion. The diversion had involved a Filibuster Firework and a Swelling Potion with spectacular results. 

 

 

Ron chuckled at the memory before pulling a large Potions book towards himself, opening it and while already stifling a yawn, set to waiting for Hermione. 

 

 

He had actually been there studying for almost an hour before Hermione strode into the library, arms full of books. She half-stumbled when she saw Ron waiting for her at her study table but recovered quickly before joining him.  

 

 

“Good morning.” 

 

 

Ron looked up from the complex potion instructions he was reading for the Draught of Internal Fire which included a rather detailed and gruesome picture. His jaw dropped as he saw Hermione casually shrug out of her school robes revealing her Parvati and Lavender ‘updated’ outfit underneath. 

 

She blushed slightly at the relatively modest show of skin, which was nonetheless completely outrageous compared with her usual attire. She didn’t miss Ron’s reaction however. _Hermione: 1, Ron: 0_ , she thought to herself as she spread her books and study materials onto the table around her own chair adjacent to Ron’s.   

 

 

Several minutes passed in silence as the two studied together. It wasn’t long before Ron began to fidget as he argued with himself as to how best go about his plan to ‘drive Hermione crazy for him’. 

 

 

Apparently oblivious to his inner confusion, Hermione pushed her chair back with a stretch half an hour later, before getting up to search for another book nearby. Now she would start to implement the plan that she, Parvati and Lavender had been going over that morning 

 

 

Hermione wandered over to a shelf near the study table, looking up to the higher shelves. She saw one of the many portable steps that were spread around the library to enable the shorter students access to the higher shelves and smiled to herself. _And so it begins_ , she thought wryly, as she walked over to it. Thinking back to early that morning, she remembered some of the many pieces of advice that Lavender and Parvati had passed onto her including, ‘ _It doesn’t take much to make a teenage boy think about sex_ ,’ and ‘ _A little bit of skin goes a long way_.’  

 

_I can’t believe I’m about to do this,_ she thought to herself. Blushing at her audacity, Hermione bent down to retrieve the small wooden step from the ground, feeling her already shortened skirt ride higher up over her thighs. It was a quick gesture but nonetheless didn’t fail to get Ron’s attention.   

 

 

Even without his more-than-friendly feelings for her, subconsciously, Ron made sure that he was always aware of Hermione’s movements. He had done so ever since the Dementor attacks on Muggles and half-blood families had started the previous year, after the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

 

He glanced up from his books to see her place the step in front of some nearby shelves and reach up to a high shelf to retrieve yet another book. It was a completely innocent gesture, as far as Ron knew, but it had the power to drive him to distraction.   

 

 

Standing on tip toes and reaching above her head caused Hermione’s skirt to rise just a few extra inches over her creamy white thighs and her shirt untucked to give him just a flash of her midriff. He’d only meant to glance quickly in her direction – but his eyes grew wide and he flushed at the unexpected sight of her unknowingly revealed flesh, which was sending blood rushing to his face…and other parts of his anatomy.    

 

Ron gulped loudly enough for Hermione to hear, and she smiled. _Lavender and Parvati were right_ , she thought to herself. _This is going to be too easy_. Her grin was just a bit too smug, because Ron saw the look on her face and quickly realised what was happening.    

 

 

Ron got out of his chair and walked over to Hermione as she struggled for a book on the top shelf. Standing close to her, but not using the step, he reached up and easily grabbed the book she had been straining for. 

 

 

Hermione turned to face him, their eyes level as she stood on the step. Many thoughts whizzed through her mind, among them that Lavender and Parvati had not prepared her for coming face to face with Ron that very day. She couldn’t help but realise that their lips were barely inches apart and licked her lips in subconscious anticipation.   

 

Ron saw the movement and grinned, never taking his blue eyes from her hazel-brown ones. While he didn’t have a specific plan for this ‘game’ with Hermione, he was perfectly capable of following his hormones.   

 

 

“Is this what you were looking for?” he asked casually, offering her the book. 

 

 

“Yeah. Thanks,” Hermione breathed, her eyes still locked on his. She reached absently for the book, only to grab Ron’s arm instead. She noticed the feel of his muscles beneath her fingers and the warmth she felt where she touched him. She snapped back to reality and snatched her hand off of his arm, her eyes betraying her shock    

 

Ron only reacted with a chuckle and leaned in closer. Hermione’s eyes fluttered shut as she waited for the kiss…that never came. Ron passed by her lips and whispered in her ear instead.    “You play with fire, Hermione and you’re bound to get burned. 

 

 

 

_Bugger,_ she cursed silently. _Hermione: 1, Ron: 1, I guess_ , she thought grudgingly.   

 

 

Hermione’s mouth set in a hard line as she heard this. Backing off of the library steps, she moved away from Ron. She gazed calmly up into his eyes.“Do you think you’re hot, Ron? I don’t think so.” That wiped the grin off his face.   

 

 

She grabbed the book from him and returned to her study books as if nothing had happened. Ron stood in place, dumbstruck, for several moments before he also returned to his chair. This was not going to be as easy as he had thought.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11 - Jealousy

Hermione relayed what had happened that day in the library to Lavender and Parvati. This time though, the girls also agreed that they would have to step up the campaign, as Ron Weasley was proving to be a much more difficult adversary than they had first anticipated. They hadn’t taken into account Ron’s competitiveness and just how much he enjoyed a challenge. That night they also brought magic into the equation, casting a Confidence Charm on Hermione, giving her the courage and confidence to behave in a way that she otherwise would not.

 

It was also decided that Hermione would continue with the new outfit, as it had clearly had a positive affect on Ron. The next step, Parvati and Lavender assured her, was to provoke Ron’s jealous streak. Hermione was not looking forward to it. She did have one weapon in her arsenal that would be extremely effective in this situation but wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to use it. She was well aware as to how easily it could backfire.

 

Hermione descended the stairs from the girls’ dormitory feeling greatly more confident and certain in her bearing than she had earlier in the library.

 

As Hermione entered the common room, she was relieved to see that the room was almost empty. She saw that Ron and Harry had taken up their usual place near the large fireplace to battle it out in a game of Wizard’s chess. Ron and Harry both glanced up from the game as she descended the stairs, immediately noticing that she had rid herself of her billowing black school robes and was just dressed in the too-tight blouse and too-short skirt.

 

Hermione noticed Harry glance at Ginny, who shook her head, frowning. Neither of them looked too happy with this turn of events.

 

Ron, however, couldn’t take his eyes off her. His gaze raked over her figure from her long legs to the peek of cleavage at the top of her blouse.

 

Hermione blushed slightly but smiled to herself when she saw where Ron’s eyes lingered as she descended the stairs from the girls’ dormitories.

 

She strode over to her three friends and settled herself in the armchair nearest to Ron. She pulled out a book, the same one, Ron realised, that he had earlier pulled down from the top-most shelf, and started to read. She deliberately crossed her legs so that her skirt rode high over her thighs. This is where the Confidence Charm came into play. The ordinary Hermione would have immediately corrected this wardrobe malfunction, but now she left it; she knew that it would have a remarkable effect on Ron.

 

As it was, Ron had a fantastic view of her entire leg right up to the top, and he couldn’t help but think what it would be like to kiss his way up that long, lightly freckled leg, up her thighs and…

 

He gulped, tore his gaze away from her and tried to concentrate on his chess game with Harry. He was now losing dismally with the distraction of Hermione’s bare legs in his peripheral vision, every now and then recrossing each other or tapping her toes on the edge of the table. He thought to himself that she had rather pretty toes.

 

“Checkmate.”

 

Ron’s attention was dragged back to the chess board. He could immediately see that he had suffered his worst defeat to Harry yet. His pieces were all over the place, all now grumbling at his distracted and downright laughable directions. Ron rested his head in his hands as Harry chuckled quietly.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever beaten you that soundly before.” 

 

“Shut up, Harry,” Ron muttered, glaring at his best friend. “Come on, I want a rematch.” They started to reset the chessboard for another game. Harry leant over.

 

“I tried to warn you before, mate. Don’t underestimate women.” This last statement was whispered just loud enough so that only Ron could hear him. They both knew that this battle had gone to Hermione, although she hadn’t done anything besides sit in the comfy armchair and read, but Ron would not concede that the war was over.

_Hermione: 2, Ron: 1,_ Hermione thought to herself. _Time to bring out the secret weapon._ She glanced around surreptitiously and was glad to find that they were the last four people left in the common room. She pulled out an opened envelope which she used to mark her page, and deliberately left enough poking out the top of the book so that the sender’s name was just visible.

 

Ron was still hopelessly aware of her bare legs, which were close enough for him to reach out and touch. He saw her put the book down on the table and stretch widely, yawning. Again, he saw her blouse rise up, showing off the pale skin of her stomach. He also noticed that her breasts pushed against the fabric of the tight blouse, and he was held spellbound. He was still staring at her a full minute later when he was jerked back to the present.

 

“RON!” cried an outraged Ginny.

 

“What?” he asked thickly, finally tearing his gaze away from Hermione’s chest. He looked at his sister who was staring at him with a scandalised expression on her face, then to Harry, who was barely succeeding in suppressing laughter

 

“Could you possibly be any more obvious?” Ginny asked him.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ron mumbled, turning back to the chess game with Harry. He could hear Ginny tutting as she settled back to watch them.

 

Several more minutes passed and the game progressed. Hermione was beginning to think her plan had failed, until Harry took a particularly long time to decide on his next move. Ron’s eyes began to stray again. In passing, he noted the envelope marking Hermione’s page. His eyes grew wide when he read the name of the sender. Ron leapt out of his chair and grabbed the book, tearing the envelope out of it.

 

“Ron, what on earth has got into you?” Ginny exclaimed, but Ron wasn’t listening to her. He was glaring at Hermione.

 

“What the hell is this?” he asked her, waving the envelope in her face. Hermione blinked at him twice.

 

“You just made me lose my page.”

 

“What the hell is this, Hermione?” Ron repeated.

 

“It’s an envelope, Ron.” Hermione knew her calm tones would only serve to make him angrier.

 

“Yes, I can see that. What I want to know is why do you have such an envelope? How long have you been writing to dear old Vicky? How is the Bulgarian Wonder Boy?”

 

“Don’t call him that. And we’re just friends.” Hermione was beginning to think that this whole thing had been a very bad idea.

 

“What do you write to him about anyway, the latest Quidditch match results?” Ron was beginning to lose his temper completely.

_Oh yes,_ she thought to herself. _This was a very,_ very _bad idea._ She leapt out of her chair to face him.

 

“Or perhaps you’ve been writing about proper broomstick maintenance?”

 

Neither of them heard Ginny gasp loudly. She and Harry sat watching the row, powerless to stop it but unable to look away. Harry moved his wand to a position where he could grab it quickly if things got out of hand. The look on Hermione’s face at that moment made her look like she would do murder.

 

“How DARE you?” she spluttered, immediately understanding the innuendo.

 

“I don’t hear you denying any of this!”

 

“There’s nothing to deny —”

 

“I knew it!” Ron cut her off.

 

“Only because there is nothing you’ve said that is more than pure rubbish. I keep telling you that nothing ever happened between me and Victor. Why are you so jealous of him Ron? Why do you feel so threatened by him?”

 

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!” he bellowed. Hermione was confused for a moment before she saw movement on the stairs to the dormitories. Some younger students had crowded around the stairs, curious about the ruckus, but they scurried away quickly when Ron shouted at them.

 

“And I am not jealous of that great git. Why should I care that you practically threw yourself at him?” Ron didn’t notice the thunderous look on Hermione’s face or he might have paused to consider his next words. “You really are a scarlet woman, aren’t you?”

 

Ginny gasped again but the sound was drowned out but the sickening _SMACK_ as Hermione slapped Ron hard across the face. Then, with a heaving sob, she ran from the room and up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories.

 

Ron touched his cheek where a large and painful-looking red welt was showing on his skin. He grimaced slightly, staring after Hermione.

 

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance again. They almost missed the softly spoken words from Ron.

 

“What have I done?”


	12. Chapter 12 - Damage Control

The next day was Christmas Eve and it dawned with a fresh layer of powder snow outside and a fresh layer of open hostility inside. Hermione and Ron were not talking to each other and were both pretending the other did not exist. Every chance they got, they glared angrily at each other.

 

Breakfast was a complete debacle. It had started fine, despite the two staring daggers at one another. Ginny and Harry had sat between them, trying to separate them as best they could, but this didn’t stop the pair from throwing snide comments at every opportunity.

 

Harry and Ginny just rolled their eyes and refrained from commenting, preferring to stay out of it completely lest they seem to be taking sides.

 

Eventually, Hermione stood up with a huff and declared herself off to the library. Despite the fact that Ron had muttered, rather loudly, that he ‘couldn’t care less,’ he watched her all the way across the Great Hall and through the large wooden doors. After Hermione had disappeared from sight, Ron sighed deeply and laid his head in his hands.

 

“ARGH! That woman is infuriating! What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he cried, before repeatedly thumping his head against the table. He was drawing worried glances from the few other students that were present.

 

“I really think you’re done,” Ginny said gently.

 

“I’ve actually ruined this, haven’t I?” he asked desolately. He looked up, his eyes pleading with his sister and best friend. Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. Quite frankly, they had no idea what to say to reassure him, because they weren’t sure if they would be lying. Harry couldn’t actually think of a time when Hermione had been more hacked off at Ron before. Certainly not to the extent of slapping him, as she had the night before; Ron still wore a slight red mark where Hermione’s hand had connected with his face

 

Ron saw the look that passed between them and groaned, continuing to bang his head against the table.

 

“What. Am. I. Going. To. Do?” Ron asked in between thumps. He sighed but didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He pushed his bench back from the table, announced he needed some fresh air and stalked out of the Great Hall.

 

Harry stared after his best friend.  “Well, that could have gone better,” he said, shaking his head.

 

*~*~*

 

Ginny found Hermione in the Library later that morning. Madam Pince was, for once, nowhere to be seen, and Hermione was pacing up and down, muttering to herself.

 

_What a mess_ , Ginny thought to herself as she approached the older girl. She had left Harry to deal with Ron while she went to talk to Hermione.

 

“Um, Hermione?” Ginny called softly.

 

Hermione barely stopped her pacing, continuing to mutter. It was still loud enough, however, for Ginny to catch some of it.

 

“Stupid…unforgivable…prat…git…”

 

“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed. The other girl looked up.

 

“You’re wearing a hole in the floor.”

 

Hermione looked confused for a moment, before looking down. There was nothing different with the stones on the library floor, but she stopped pacing anyway. She sat down at her favourite study table with a gusty sigh and stared at the chair that Ron had occupied only the day before.

 

“It was all going so well,” Hermione muttered. Ginny sat down next to her without a word and waited for Hermione to continue.

 

“Yesterday I was winning. We were both right here, at this very table and I was winning.”

 

_Was it really just yesterday?_ Ginny asked herself. She could hardly believe that, but it was true – and only two days before that Hermione had overheard Ron and Harry in the entrance hall, where Ron had proposed his stupid game and this whole mess had started. Ginny watched grimly, as Hermione threw her head onto the desk in front of her.

 

“Ow,” she moaned softly. The action so resembled Ron’s earlier that morning that Ginny would have laughed, if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

 

“Ginny, what am I going to do?” Hermione wailed, looking up at the younger girl. “I mean, have I ruined this before it’s even started?” Ginny suppressed another grin as she thought about how close this statement was to Ron’s, not that long ago.

 

“Of course not,” Ginny said sympathetically, as she sat down next to Hermione. “You just need some damage control.”

 

“How on Earth do I do that?”

 

“Well, the first thing you need to do – and listen closely to this, because it is very important – stop taking advice from Lavender and Parvati!”

 

Hermione couldn’t help but to laugh grimly at this. As much as she hated to admit it, Ginny was right. Given Lavender and Parvati’s record with boys, she probably should have known better than to go to them for advice from the start.

 

“The second thing you need to do is stop with this ridiculous game between you and Ron.” Ginny had been relieved that morning, when Hermione had come down from her dormitory room in her normal clothing and not the outfit that Lavender and Parvati had somehow convinced her to wear.

 

“Finally, you need to distract yourself. And you are going to start right now, by teaching me how to transfigure this chair into a badger,” Ginny said, getting out of her seat and setting it in a clear space for Hermione to demonstrate the spell.

 

“I don’t see how what that has to do with anything?” Hermione looked blankly, from Ginny to the chair.

 

“The TOADs, Hermione. It’s not always about you, you know.” Ginny’s lips lifted in a small smile, letting Hermione know that she was just teasing.

 

Hermione smiled softly, before getting up and disappearing into the stacks of books around them. Ginny had just begun to wonder if Hermione had deserted her completely, when she returned holding a large, dusty tome, _Advanced Transfiguration_.

 

“First thing’s first,” she said. “We learn theory, before we learn practical.” Ginny groaned, before pulling the chair back to the table, sitting down and resigning herself to a day learning obscure spells and charms with Hermione. She knew that this would be beneficial to them both – this level of transfiguration work would almost definitely be tested in the O.W.Ls and therefore, in the T.O.A.Ds, and Hermione would not brood about Ron all day if she was distracted by school work – but she would still have preferred to be outside, romping in the snow or practicing Quidditch. She cast one quick, longing glance out the window before concentrating on the wand movement that Hermione was showing her. 

 

*~*~*

 

Harry had followed Ron after he had left the Great Hall out onto the Quidditch pitch. Ron had continued muttering to himself the entire way across the lawns to the shed where the Gryffindor brooms were kept. Harry couldn’t really hear him clearly, but guessed, rightly, that Ron was berating himself heavily in between denouncing Hermione’s actions of the previous night. Harry also thought he had heard some choice curse words aimed at Victor Krum, the least of which was that he was a “bloody bastard.”

 

Ron clearly needed to work off some steam, and Harry provided the means by Charming a Quaffle to repeatedly hurl itself at the goal rings, while Ron defended them. Ron would catch the large red ball, before throwing it back out onto the field. Harry objected though, when it seemed that the Quaffle was being aimed at himself.

 

“Oi!” he yelled, as he ducked under one such throw. “What do you think you’re doing?” he cried.

 

Ron didn’t answer but continued to intercept and then throw the Quaffle back into the field. Harry caught the next one on his chest, hard enough that he knew it would leave a bruise.

 

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” he said as he waved his wand over the charmed Quaffle. “I didn’t come out here for you to abuse me!” he shouted across the field. He flew back down to the ground and started packing the equipment away, waiting for Ron to come down as well.

 

He waited a long while as Ron flew laps around the Quidditch pitch on his broom. Eventually Harry had to call out to him.

 

“Come on, Ron! It’s nearly lunchtime.”

 

Reluctantly, Ron flew down to Harry, stored his broom away and walked off across the main lawn without a word. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron’s retreating figure and jogged to catch up with him.

 

They walked in silence for a few hundred metres.

 

“How do they do it, Harry?”

 

Harry looked at his friend blankly for a few moments.

 

“How do who do what?”

 

“How do girls make us crazy? I mean, they obviously have the hair and the legs and the…other things,” Ron said, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. “But how do they drive a person crazy just by being?”   

It seemed that Ron wasn’t actually looking for an answer, which was good, because although Harry thought he knew exactly what Ron was talking about, he didn’t really have an answer to that question. The two boys entered the castle in silence, each wrapped up in their own complicated thoughts.

 


	13. Chapter 13 - Sprung

When the rest of the student population returned to the castle after the holidays, they immediately realised that they had missed something over Christmas.  Ron and Hermione were still not speaking to each other, and Harry and Ginny were uncomfortably caught in the middle. It would seem that neither would admit defeat to the other.

 

Unfortunately they were too alike in two important ways — the competitiveness that had got them both into this mess in the first place, and the pride which prevented them from admitting they may have been wrong. The most they had spoken to each other in the past week had been the polite thank yous exchanged for the Christmas presents.

 

Despite the difficult situation with her friend and brother, Ginny found that she had other things to worry about. Professor McGonagall had found her on the last day of the holidays to remind her that she had just six months until she took the TOADs. She had also let Ginny know that tutors had been arranged to help her prepare for the various subjects.

_“Miss Granger has been kind enough to volunteer to be your tutor for Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic and Potions. Longbottom will help you with Herbology, and Potter will instruct you in Defence against the Dark Arts. You have been allocated the Charms classroom on the third floor for practice in the evenings after dinner.”_

 

In the emotional tension that pervaded the castle over the following week, Ginny and Harry had completely forgotten the agreement they had made to finally tell Ron, and everyone else, about their relationship. 

 

Late one night, not long after the new term had started, Ginny was still sitting at the study tables with Hermione’s Charms notes spread in front of her, while she practiced the wand movement necessary to conjure items from thin air. She was doing quite well, judging by the number of random items littered across the table, including a silver goblet, several owl feathers and a small purple cushion.

 

Ron and Harry were occupied somewhat less productively, playing one last game of wizard chess in front of the hearth fire, which ended with Ron completely trouncing Harry.

 

Ron rose with a stretch and a yawn. “You coming up?”

 

Ginny saw Harry glance quickly in her direction and was glad for the dim lighting that kept Ron from noticing.

 

“No, you go. I’m just going to sit here for a while.”

 

Ron nodded, yawning again.

 

“Ok. G’night,” he called as he ascended the stairs to the dormitory rooms.

 

Ginny looked up and watched her brother’s retreating figure until he had disappeared from view. She looked around and was happy to see that she and Harry were the only people left in the common room. She pointed her wand at the purple cushion she had conjured and, with a flick of her wrist, Banished it towards Harry, thumping him in the head.

 

“Hey!” he cried in mock indignation. He scooped up the cushion and lobbed it back. It skidded across the table, sending the notes and conjured objects flying.

 

“Oh no. Now I won’t be able to study,” Ginny said with a great deal of sarcasm. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Whatever will I do now?”

 

Harry chuckled. He had once heard Fred Weasley saying that all Weasley men possessed a deadly combination of charm, charisma and a charged libido. He would love to see the look on Fred’s face if Harry ever told him that these traits were not restricted to the male members of the family.

 

Ginny’s gaze was almost predatory as she stalked over to the armchair in front of the fire where Harry was sitting. She braced her hands on his knees and leaned down to kiss him softly. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down on top of him, smothering her startled giggles with his mouth. As Ginny sat cradled in his lap, she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and twined her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

 

Eventually they broke apart and just sat together watching the fire. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny’s waist again, holding her close as she snuggled into his shoulder.

 

“Can I give you your Christmas present now?” Harry asked her suddenly.

 

“Hmm?” Ginny asked, sleepily. “You’ve already given me my Christmas present, silly. The cinnamon sugar quills were lovely.”

 

“No, that was just the present I could give in front of everyone. I haven’t given you my real present yet.”

 

He fumbled inside his robes for a moment, which was made much more difficult as Ginny still lay across his legs. Finally, he was able to reach into the inside pocket and withdraw a small, dark blue box.

 

Ginny had almost been asleep, comfortable in Harry’s embrace, but when she saw what he was holding in front her she jerked up, instantly awake. She stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed, from the box to Harry and back again.

 

“I know this sounds cliché, but I saw this and thought of you. I wanted to give it to you at Christmas, but with everything that’s been going on with Ron and Hermione, there was never a good time. So I’ve been carrying it around with me ever since, waiting to give it to you.”

 

Ginny reached out and took the box from his open hand, swallowing hard. She opened the lid slowly, revealing a silver heart-shaped pendant on a silver chain. The pendent was made from ribbons of silver, woven and knotted into the intricate design of a Celtic protection shield.

 

On closer inspection, she realised that the pendant was actually a locket of sorts. She pried open the sides to see there was nothing in it, but she found that she could smell something. Holding the locket to her nose, she inhaled deeply and smiled.

 

Harry could see her trying to identify the scents coming from it. He knew exactly what they were — mown grass and honey suckle, apples, fresh baked bread, and underneath it all, the very faint aroma of gunpowder. Ginny laughed as she recognised it all.

 

“It smells like the Burrow!” she exclaimed, her eyes dancing. “You’ve even got the smell from Fred and George’s room!”

 

Harry grinned, loving her reaction to his surprise. “It took me ages to get the charm right. I couldn’t even ask Hermione for help, because she’d ask me what it was for.”

 

She took the necklace out of the box and undid the catch but had trouble when she tried to do it up around her neck.

 

“Here, let me,” Harry offered, taking the chain from her. Ginny turned slightly and pulled her hair out of the way, while Harry fastened the clasp. He lingered for a moment, drawing his fingertips across the pale freckled skin across her shoulders. Ginny shivered at the sensation, then turned back to face him, showing him the pendant nestled between her breasts.

 

Ginny gently pressed her lips against his, before she pulled away.

 

“It’s perfect, Harry.”

 

“Wait a minute. I just have to do something.” Harry pulled out his wand and lightly tapped the silver pendant three times. It glowed red briefly before going back to normal as if nothing had happened.

 

“What did you just do?” Ginny asked, completely baffled.

 

“It’s just a Protection Charm I added to it.” Harry wouldn’t meet her eyes and blushed slightly. It was something that he had stumbled onto when reading for a DADA essay on protection spells. After he had bought the necklace and added the scent charm to the inside of the locket, he had cast the most powerful protection spells he could find. He knew he was being overprotective again, but he couldn’t help it. He just could not bear the thought of anything happening to her.

 

“I made sure that the chain was long enough so it wouldn’t show. You know, so there aren’t any awkward questions about where it came from,” Harry said, trying to change the subject slightly, still somewhat nervous about how she would react to his Protection Charm.

 

 “It’s a lovely gift, Harry. I love that you want to protect me — no, really!” she said, seeing him raise his eyebrows. She punched him in the arm playfully, and he couldn’t hold the sceptical look on his face. He grinned up at her.

 

“You’re wonderful,” she said to him, leaning down to kiss him again.

 

“We still need to tell Ron about us, you know? He’s going to find out eventually, and it would be much better coming from us directly rather than through the gossip,” she said, linking her hand with his and leaning back into his embrace.

 

Harry sighed. “I know we need to tell him. We should have told him ages ago, but —”

 

“Do you seriously think that Ron is going to hurt you over this?”

 

“Well, no. Not really.”

 

“Good. I realise that he hasn’t dealt well with me having boyfriends in the past —”

 

“Wait, what did you say?”

 

“I said, it was good that you don’t really believe he’ll be angry.”

 

“No, after that. Am I your boyfriend?”

 

“I’m afraid so, Harry,” she replied, wryly. 

 

“Hmm. I’ve never been a boyfriend before.” Harry fell into a thoughtful silence. Ginny laughed and caught his lips with her own again.

 

“Ginny?!” Just then a shout from across the common room broke through their ardour. Ginny turned quickly to see Ron standing at the foot of the staircase to the boy’s dormitories.

 

“HARRY!”


	14. Chapter 14 - "So, is this ok?"

 

“HARRY!”

 

Harry’s hair was tousled, his glasses were askew and his face was quickly taking on the same shade of crimson as his Gryffindor scarf. 

 

 

_Of all the ways for Ron to find out that I’m dating his sister, this is definitely not the best_ , Harry thought to himself. He sprung out of the armchair, just catching Ginny as she tumbled off of his lap.

 

“This isn’t what it looks like.” He grimaced at the clichéd words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

 

“Actually, it’s kind of exactly what it looks like,” Ginny said.

 

“You aren’t helping,” Harry muttered to her.

 

All this time, Ron was just standing in the doorway, gaping at the pair of them. Several minutes passed and he still hadn’t said anything. Ginny walked over to him and waved a hand slowly in front of his face.

 

“Ron?”

 

He blinked a couple of times and turned slightly to stare at her.

 

“Are you ok?” she asked worriedly. He opened his mouth to talk but only a squeak came out. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

 

“H-how long has this been going on?”

 

“About seven months,” Ginny replied.

 

“We were planning to tell you, but there never seemed to be the right time,” Harry added.

 

“Uh huh.” Ron continued to look from Harry to Ginny and back again. For a few minutes, nobody said anything. Finally, Harry had to know.

 

“So, is this ok?”

 

Ron turned to look at Harry, his best friend.

 

“I’m not sure yet.” He turned and walked back up the stairs to the boy’s dormitories. Harry and Ginny gaped at each other. Ginny leaned through the doorway.

 

“What do you mean, ‘you aren’t bloody sure yet’?” she said in a harsh whisper. “What just happened here?” she asked Harry.

 

“I’m not sure yet,” he replied, his brow furrowed in concern. Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Well, go find out!” She shoved him towards the stairs, before returning to the study table, collecting her things and retiring to her own dormitory. All the while, she muttered under her breath about perfectly good evenings completely ruined by stupid prats.

 

By the time Harry had made his way to the sixth year boys’ dormitory, Ron had retreated behind the drapes of his four poster bed. He had also apparently cast an Imperturbable Charm on them, because every time Harry tried to open them, he was repelled.

 

“Fine,” he said to the curtains. “But do not think you’re getting out of this that easily.”

 

Harry stalked off to his own bed and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t the only one.

 

*~*~*

 

 

When he woke the next morning from a restless sleep, Ron pulled the curtains back from his bed slowly and peeked through the gap. He looked over at the other beds in the room and saw that all were empty with the drapes pulled back. Breathing a quick sigh of relief as he climbed out of bed, Ron glanced out the window and frowned at the sleet that was falling fast outside, before he started rummaging through the chest at the end of his bed. He was dressed and heading for the door when it swung shut in his face and Harry stepped out from behind it.  

 

“Not so fast.”  

 

 “Bugger.” Ron flinched.  

 

“Did you seriously not expect this?” 

 

 

“Did I expect to walk in on you two snogging in the common room? No, can’t say I did.”  

 

“Yes, well, I think we all wish that hadn’t happened, but I’m talking about me and Ginny. Are you telling me you didn’t expect us to get together?”   

 

Ron sighed. “No. On some level, of course I knew. But thinking that it would happen eventually is a heck of a lot different to seeing it. She’s only fifteen, Harry.”  

 

“Yeah, and I’m only sixteen. What’s your point?” Harry crossed his arms across his chest, and raised an eyebrow. Ron refused to meet his eyes.  

 

“Ron, why don’t you tell me what is really bothering you about this?”  

 

“I don’t want her to get hurt! Ok? She’s my baby sister. After Fred and George came to Hogwarts, it was just her and me at home, you know? And with everything that’s happened in the last couple of years, you can’t deny that the people around you have a tendency to get into trouble or worse.”  Harry frowned and opened his mouth to interrupt.   

 

Ron held up a hand. “Let me finish. I know none of it is your fault. No one is blaming you. Me and Hermione have been there for you, we’re going to be there for you — you know that. I don’t regret it for a minute, and I can’t speak for Hermione, but I’m sure she doesn’t either. But pretty soon, some major shit is going to happen with You-Know-Who. I just don’t want her to get caught up in it all…” Ron trailed off and stared pleadingly at Harry.  

 

 

 

“She knows the risks, Ron. Believe me. I’ve had this exact same argument with her many times. But I love her. And I’m not going to let her get hurt. I would sooner die.” The words hung in the air as they stared at each other. Both of them knew that it was no idle declaration  and it was entirely possible that it may come to that.  

 

 

Ron glanced away first, running his hand through his hair as he stared out the window.   

 

 

“Rain’s stopped,” he commented. 

 

 

“What?” Harry asked, startled at the sudden change in subject.  

 

Ron turned back to him. “It’s stopped raining. Fancy some Quidditch practice?”  

 

Harry opened his mouth, closed it again then sighed with a wry smile. “Yeah. Sure. Sounds Great.” 

 

 

*~*~*  

 

As the pair descended into the common room, Ginny got up from the couch and walked over to them, looking Harry and Ron over, apparently checking them for bruises.   

 

“Well?” she asked. “Did you sort it all out?”  

 

 

The boys exchanged a glance and, turning back to her, nodded. Ginny grinned and leaned over to kiss Harry on the cheek. 

 

 

“No! No, no, no. Just because I approve of you two, doesn’t mean I have to look at it!” Ron protested, shoving the handle of his broomstick in between the pair.   

 

 

Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You can’t be serious, Ron? It isn’t like we were going to start snogging right here in the common room.”   

 

 

“Yeah, well, that’s not what it looked like last night!”  

 

 

Harry sighed. He was actually beginning to think that it was physically impossible for the siblings, as close as they were, to go more than a few days at a time without bickering.  

 

 

It had been going so well that morning, too. Ron hadn’t punched him or anything. As uncomfortable as their whole conversation upstairs had been, Harry was glad that they had cleared the air: the whole Voldemort issue and his and Ginny’s relationship. Such topics would normally have gone unspoken until the atmosphere was so tense with unresolved issues, that the only resolution would be a massive argument where no one spoke to anyone else for several weeks — hence why Ron and Hermione still would not acknowledge the other’s presence in the room. He was beginning to think that girls may have the right idea as far as talking about their feelings went.  

 

 

Harry listened as the siblings continuing to bicker and finally realised that it was their own way of clearing the air. The insults and verbal barbs never went too far, the threats of various hexes were never followed through. This was apparently something they had practiced over the years, being the youngest two Weasleys.   

 

 

Harry interrupted the quarrel before either of them found their stride; he kissed Ginny swiftly on the cheek, told her he would see her at lunch then grabbed a protesting Ron by the front of his robes and dragged him across the common room. 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15 - Private Lessons

 

Later that evening, Harry and Ginny met in the empty Charms classroom so Ginny could practice her defensive spells. At least, that’s what they were supposed to be doing.   

 

Instead the pair was locked in passionate embrace. Harry had Ginny pressed up against the wall, while she ran her hands up his back and tangled her fingers in his hair. His mouth left hers and he started trailing kisses across her jawbone and down her neck. He pulled her shirt collar, baring her shoulder. He nipped and licked the sensitive spot on her collarbone, smiling into her skin when he heard her moan. Ginny hooked a leg over his, pulling his body into hers, and she blushed slightly, feeling his arousal pressed into her centre. 

 

The sensation was startling, even through several layers of clothing, and she couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like without any barrier between them at all. If things kept going the way they were, Ginny knew she would want to find out exactly what that felt like, and the thought actually scared her. Pulling herself together she unhooked her leg, and gently pushed Harry away from her.   

 

 

“We really do have to get some practice done tonight,” Ginny said blushing.   

 

 

“Right. Practice, yes.” Harry was panting slightly and looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Sorry. Got carried away.” He took a few deep breaths.   

 

 

“You should be ashamed, taking advantage of a poor innocent girl in this fashion,” Ginny said slyly. She touched her fingertips to her swollen lips and smiled.  

 

  “Cheeky. You aren’t that innocent,” Harry laughed and leaned over to kiss her again.   

 

It was just at that moment that the door swung open and a round-faced boy walked in carrying a large textbook that looked like it was made out of kelp. Neville froze in his tracks, mouth agape at the kissing couple.   

 

“Ginny! Harry! I’m so sorry, I thought it was my night with Ginny tonight — No! I mean,” he faltered, blushing deeply. “That’s not what I meant,” he mumbled, completely mortified.   

 

Ginny chuckled. “Oh, Neville, I’m sorry. Harry has detention tomorrow night, so I asked Seamus to ask you if you wouldn’t mind switching your Herbology tutoring. He told me you said it was fine. His idea of a joke, I guess. Shut up, Harry.” Ginny elbowed Harry in the ribs; he was laughing at the look on Neville’s face.   

 

 

“Right. Yes. Tomorrow night then. No problem,” Neville stammered before retreating back through the door as quickly as he could. Harry dissolved into laughter again.  

 

 

“Poor Neville,” Ginny said. “And I’m going to kill Seamus!” She couldn’t help but grin at the situation though. “Anyway, no more distractions. We’ve only got an hour left.”  

 

 

“Right. I did actually have a plan for tonight.”  

 

“I’ll bet you did,” Ginny said with a grin.   

 

“Very funny. I thought we should start with the Patronus and then see how we go from there.” 

 

Harry went to one corner of the room and dragged out a large steamer trunk that was rattling slightly. “It took ages, but I finally found a boggart in the Transfiguration corridor. Flitwick said we could keep it in here in between tutoring sessions.”   

 

 

Ginny sighed. “Things were so much easier when we were using the Room of Requirement.”  

 

 

“Yeah, I know, but now that practically the entire castle knows about it, finding it empty would be tough. You ready?” Harry asked, positioning himself where the boggart would focus on him when it got out of the trunk.   

 

Ginny set her jaw and, holding her wand steady in front of her, she nodded. 

 

Harry flicked his wand at the trunk and the lid flipped open. The temperature in the room plummeted as a shadowed figure floated out of the trunk. It raised a pallid, waxy looking hand, its breath rattling, and it started towards them.    

 

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Ginny cried.   

 

Harry watched a silvery figure leaped out of the tip of Ginny’s wand, as a shining lioness charged at the dementor, slashing at the billowing robes with her claws. The boggart staggered, faltering under the attack and falling back until it tumbled back into the trunk. Harry slammed down the lid and locked it again, then turned and watched the lioness patronus pad over to Ginny, rubbing its body against her before dissipating.   

 

 

“You have been practicing,” Harry said. “Was that your first full-fledged Patronus?”

 

 

 

Ginny nodded. 

 

 

“I guess I just finally got a happy enough memory,” she said softly.  

 

“What was it?”   

 

 

“The first time you kissed me.” Ginny looked up at him, and the love in her eyes warmed him. He smiled back at her and bent down to kiss her again. A loud thumping issuing from the trunk interrupted the moment. 

 

 

“Oh, shut up!” Ginny cried, aiming a kick at the trunk and almost breaking her foot.   

 

 

“OW!”  

 

 

“No more distractions you said.” He tried to smother a laugh. 

 

 

“Right. Yes, practice.” Ginny nodded, grimacing at the pain in her foot.  

 

 

Ginny’s Patronus lioness had faced down the boggart five times before Harry declared that she was as good as she was going to get in these controlled circumstances.  

 

The next part, Harry was sure would cause much more opposition than his Patronus suggestion had. He took a deep breath as they both watched her lioness Patronus dissipate.   

 

 

“The next thing I think we should practice is the Imperius Curse,” he said, looking straight into her eyes. He knew now was not the time for shyness or for embarrassment. He believed if he could help her to resist at least one of the Unforgivables that were becoming more frequently used in the current atmosphere of crime and fear in the world at large.  

 

 

 

Ginny looked up at him, shock and a touch of fear creeping into her eyes.  

 

 

 

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but the more practice you can get in resisting this curse, the better. I don’t want you caught unprepared out there.”  

 

 

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “I do not intend on getting caught and used by the Death Eaters in their foul plans to get to you.”  

 

 

“I know that. I just want to keep you safe.” 

 

 

“You won’t always be able to protect me, Harry.”  

 

 “I – I know that,” Harry said, walking over to her and pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he murmured into her hair.  

 

“What if you don’t have a choice?” she whispered.   

 

 

“You’ll always be my first choice. If it’s between you and me, I’ll sacrifice myself every time.” 

 

 

Ginny looked up at him, startled at the words and the solemn conviction behind them. “You really believe that, don’t you?” she asked, looking up at him.   

 

“Well, it’s true,” he said.   

 

“What about Ron and Hermione?” she asked.  

 

“They have each other,” he replied simply. “Even if they don’t realise it yet.” Harry pulled her in tighter, not wanting to let go. “Did you still want to try the Imperius Curse tonight or leave it until next week?”  

 

 

“I want to try it,” Ginny replied with surprising firmness 

 

 

 

“Really?”  

 

 

“Yes.”  

 

“Are you sure?”   

 

“Yes, I’m sure. What the hell, Harry? You’re the one who suggested it!” she replied, exasperated.  

 

“I know, I know. I just want to be sure you’re ready.”

 

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Harry. There’s only one way to know if I’ll be able to resist the Imperius Curse and that is if I get to face it safely first.” Harry pointed his wand at her.  “Are you absolutely sure about this?” he asked.  

 

“Yes, Harry. Just do it.”  Harry raised his wand, pointing it at his girlfriend. He took a deep breath and braced himself for what he was about to do.  

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ginny squealed.   

 

“What?” Harry said, startled.   

 

“What are you going to make me do?” she asked. “I trust you, I just want to know what you’re going to make me do.”  

 

 

“I don’t know. I’ll get you to jump up and down or something.” 

 

 

 

“Ok, that’s fine. I’m ready now.”   

 

Again, Harry raised his wand, pointing it at her chest. “IMPERIO!”.  

 

She stood stock still for a moment, a dreamy, unfocused look stealing across her face. Then she shook her head and looked over at Harry. 

 

“Hurry up, Harry. Just do it already.”   

 

“I – I did,” he stammered.   

 

“Well, try it again. You really have to mean it.” 

 

 

Harry frowned. “I did mean it. At least, I think I did.”  

 

 

“Harry, you need to put all your will behind it. You have to realise that this is probably the best way to help me prepare for everything that is going on away from Hogwarts. This was your idea, remember?”   

 

 

“I know, I know.” 

 

 

Harry aimed his wand at her once more, and again after a moment of dreamy calm crossed her face, Ginny shook her head and stated that she hadn’t felt a thing. 

 

Suddenly Harry realised what must have happened.   

 

“Bloody Protection Charm! It’s not supposed to protect you against me!”  

 

“Well, maybe it recognised that your intentions for me were not entirely pure. Are you sure you were just going to get me to jump around?” she said with a smile. She laughed when she saw the look on his face. “I’m joking, Harry."  

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll just take the pendant off for now —” Ginny made to unfasten the clasp.  

 

“No!” The change from dismay to panic was instantaneous.   

 

“Alright, I won’t then. Calm down.” She was startled at Harry’s shout.  

 

“Sorry. It’s just that —” Harry glanced away and mumbled something.  

 

“What was that?” 

 

 

“I said I don’t want you to take the necklace off. Ever. I know this sounds completely mad, but I need to know that you won’t take it off. I need to know that you’ll be safe.” The desperation in his eyes was frightening. “I can’t lose you,” he said, in barely more than a whisper.

 

Ginny closed the distance between them in a few short strides and took his head in her hands, making him look into her eyes.  

 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. Cocoa brown eyes met his emerald green eyes, and the intensity of her gaze almost overwhelmed him. He cleared his throat and looked away, breaking the moment.   

 

“Well, at least we know the charm works,” he said, smiling softly, the last of the tension evaporating.   

 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?” She leaned in to kiss him, as the door flew open for the second time that night.  

 

“Miss Weasley! Mr Potter! That is not what this room was set aside for!” Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.   

 

 

“Sorry, Professor,” Ginny said quickly. “That isn’t what we’ve been doing all night, I promise.”   

 

 

The look on McGonagall’s face softened slightly. “I should hope not, Miss Weasley. But nevertheless, it is time for you both to return to Gryffindor Tower. Curfew is in ten minutes.” 

 

Ginny looked at the large clock in the room and saw that Professor McGonagall was right, it was almost ten. They both followed Professor McGonagall out of the classroom and up the numerous staircases to Gryffindor Tower. She caught Harry’s eye several times on the trip, grinning each time she did so.   

 

 

McGonagall left them when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, concealing the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.   

 

“Flobber worms,” Harry said, causing the entire portrait of the large, pink, silk-clad woman to swing forward. They climbed through the portrait hole and found the common room completely empty.   

 

 

“How long do you think it will be before Ron and Hermione start talking to each other again?” Ginny asked. 

 

The pair made their way to one of the squishy armchairs in front of the hearth fire, which had burned down to glowing embers. Harry sat and pulled Ginny down, cradling her in his arms.  

 

 “Hmm, I’m not sure. Well, they got over the whole Crookshanks-ate-Scabbers-thing really quickly, didn’t they?” Harry said with a grin. “I really don’t think we should meddle though,” he added, worry creasing his brow.  

 

 

“Well, we need to do something. They’ve both been stupid with this ‘game,’ but enough is enough. They should both just swallow their pride and admit they were wrong.” 

 

 

“And if you were in their position, would you be able to admit it?”  

 

 

“That is entirely beside the point,” Ginny said, “I know you wouldn’t be thick enough to try it.” She smiled up at him, leaning forward to kiss him softly. 

 

Her expression took on a quality of sadness, and her next words betrayed her thoughts.  “But think of the time that they’re missing when they could be together, Harry. This war with Voldemort is going to get worse before it gets better. We never know which day is going to be our last.” Ginny sat staring into the embers of the fire.  

 

 “We could always just lock them in a broom cupboard together and refuse to let them out until they’d worked things out,” Harry suggested, trying to turn the subject back to something less morose.  

 

 

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Ginny replied, thoughtfully.  

 

 

“Wait a minute, I was joking,” Harry said, slightly alarmed.   

 

“Well, I’m not. That’s exactly what we should do.” 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16 - "Whashappnin?"

**** ****

Ron wound his way through the shelves in the library, heading straight for the table where he knew she would be sitting. He rounded a corner and stood watching her. The sunlight streaming through the window silhouetted her body and highlighted golden strands in the bushy brown hair that he loved. He watched her sifting through the many books in front of her, piled into a system of organised chaos that only she knew. Apparently she did not find the one she was looking for because she sighed as she got up and walked over to scan the nearest shelf. She dragged one of the wooden steps over, climbing up to pull down a thick, dusty tome from the uppermost shelf.

  

Ron took a deep breath and emerged from the shadows. “Hi Hermione.”  

 

Hermione spun around, dropping the book she had been flicking through; it thudded to the floor as the pair stood staring at each other, the silence stretching out between them.   

 

Ron forced himself to walk forward until they were standing face to face but stopped, unsure of himself. He ran his hand through his hair and blew out the breath he had been holding. Then, without another thought, he flung his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him and kissed her soundly.   

 

Ron had jumped up and out of bed before he even realised he’d woken. He strode over to the window, opening it slightly and inhaled deeply. He shivered in the early morning air, his lungs burning with the cold.   

 

“You should really consider Imperturbing your drapes every night, you know?” Harry’s voice called out sleepily. “Otherwise Seamus is going to catch on about you and Hermione soon, and you can imagine the ribbing you’re going to get then.”  

 

Ron leaned his head against the icy glass. “Shut up, Harry,” he murmured.  

 

“Whatever you say, mate,” came the reply. “But that’s how many nights this week? Three?”  

 

 “Four, actually.”   

 

“You need help, mate.”  

 

 

“I know I do.” 

 

 

“Will you two shut up?” a muffled voice called across the room in Seamus’ distinct Irish brogue. Ron sighed, looking out across the Hogwarts grounds.   

 

“What am I going to do?” he said aloud. 

 

A groan was his only warning before a pillow flew across the room, thumping into the back of his head.  

 

***~*~***  

 

 An hour later, Harry and Ron were joined by a silent Hermione as they all headed to Herbology; Ginny caught up with them as they crossed the entrance hall.   

 

 

“Harry, can I have a word?” she asked. Harry nodded, walking towards her. “He’ll catch up with you,” she called across to Ron and Hermione. Hermione shrugged and continued towards the doors, but Ron turned and eyed Ginny suspiciously.   

 

“I know that look. What are you up to?”   Ginny’s eyes widened, and the look on her face somehow managed to combine shock, indignation and innocence. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ron.”  

 

“Hmm, I know that look too. It might work on Mum but not me.”   

 

“Will you just go? I’m trying to have a private conversation with my boyfriend here.”   

 

 

Any reply from Ron was drowned out by a shriek.  

 

 

“Oh my god!” Lavender cried.  

 

 

“Oh no,” Ginny groaned.  

 

 

Harry was hanging on to her wand arm. “Just ignore them,” he murmured to her. When they had decided to stop hiding their relationship, Ginny had hoped that the general public knowledge of it would be a gradual development. She certainly had not wanted it loudly announced in the middle of the entrance hall at breakfast.   

 

Lavender and Parvati had been passing at precisely that moment, but had now stopped to stare at the couple.   

 

“Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley? You’re seeing each other?” It was the disbelief in Lavender’s voice that sent Ginny’s temper over the edge.   

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked softly, her eyes flashing. Harry’s grip on her arm tightened as she tried to reach her wand in her pocket. Ron walked up on her other side; this barely registered in Ginny’s mind, but she was thankful that they were both ready to step in and prevent her from doing something she would later regret.   

 

 

Lavender apparently realised her mistake. She opened and closed her mouth several times, searching for an appropriate answer. Not for nothing had Ginny earned her reputation for being particularly adept at casting Bat Bogey Hexes on people who crossed her. 

 

Several students who had been heading towards their own classes had stopped to watch. They were disappointed though — Harry took advantage of the moment of silence and dragged Ginny out through the main doors and into the grounds. Ron and Hermione followed quickly.   

 

“Well, that could’ve been messy,” Ron said, cheerful now that the situation had been averted.   

 

Harry was still holding onto Ginny, watching her with a worried look in his eyes. He turned to Ron and Hermione and told them that he would catch up. 

 

Ginny saw Ron’s grin falter slightly, before he walked off. Hermione sighed and followed after him, the silence between them awkward.   

 

“We really need to do something about them,” Ginny said, watching the pair walk towards the Herbology glasshouses.  

 

 

“Gin’?” Harry’s voice called her attention back. She blushed slightly as she remembered the incident in the entrance hall. 

 

 

 

“What happened in there?”   

 

 

Ginny couldn’t really tell him – she didn’t quite know herself. “You’re going to be late for Herbology,” she said instead. Kissing him swiftly, she walked back towards the main doors, leaving Harry completely bewildered.  

 

  ***~*~***   

 

All that day, Harry had hoped he would run into Ginny, but their schedules completely clashed on Fridays, and he had detention that night.   

 

 

Naturally, Snape had declared his essay on Everlasting Elixers to be abysmal, and even though it was not much different from Ron’s, only Harry was given detention. He was set an entire barrel of dead rats to dissect for their useful body parts; it was nearly midnight before Harry was able to leave, and he was grateful to finally collapse into bed, where he fell asleep almost immediately.   

 

 

What felt like barely minutes later, but was actually several hours, he was woken by a soft swish as his drapes opened.  

 

 

“Whasshappnin?” he said, sitting up. His eyes flew open when a hand clapped over his mouth.  

 

 

“Shh,” Ginny hissed, as she pulled the drapes back, closed and Imperturbed them. “Do you want someone to wake up?”   

 

“Ginny, what are you doing here?” Harry whispered, reaching for his glasses and shoving them onto his nose. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, her threadbare robe open down the middle, showing the over large faded orange shirt and pyjama pants that had obviously been stolen from Ron.   

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied. Ginny lifted up the top blanket and slid into Harry’s bed, laying down with her back to him. He was lying underneath the sheet and she on top of it, so the thin material formed a barrier between them, but Harry was still utterly stunned; Ginny Weasley was in his bed.   

 

Ginny was shivering from the trip through the draughty castle, and her entire body trembled for several minutes. Harry just held her in his arms and eventually her shaking began to subside.  

 

“Feel better?” he asked, when she finally stopped quivering.   

 

“Much. Thank you,” she replied, resting her head on his chest.  

 

“Want to tell me what’s going on yet?”   

 

 

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.” 

 

 

 

“Want to tell me why?”  

 

 

Ginny sighed. “Today was such a mess. Bloody Lavender and Parvati. They always have to stick their noses into other peoples business.”  Harry smoothed her hair and waited for her to continue.  

 

 

“I shouldn’t have got so angry though. It was just her tone; she was so shocked that you and I could be seeing each other. I’ve thought about it all day, and I know I overreacted. I guess I’ve always kind of believed that you and I getting together was a matter of ‘if’ not ‘when,’ so to hear someone else so shocked at the idea, I took it to mean she was shocked for some other reason.”  

 

 

Harry tried, he really did, but he couldn’t stop the laugh emerging; he could practically feel her scowling.   

 

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…girls, you’re always over analysing things.” He continued to chuckle until she elbowed him in the chest.   

 

“Shut up, Harry!”   

 

“Ginny, you shouldn’t have worried about this all day. Most of the people who saw have probably already forgotten, and the ones who haven’t forgotten are probably just disappointed that they didn’t get to see you hex Lavender. You aren’t the first who has been at the business end of that girl’s sense for gossip, and you certainly won’t be the last. It had to come out eventually that you and I were seeing each other. At least this way, it’s all out in the open and we won’t have to put up with rumours for a month.”   

 

Ginny turned in his arms to face him. “See, this is why I love you. You always put these things into perspective for me.”  

 

“Surely that isn’t the only reason,” he said with a grin.   

 

“Not it isn’t the only reason,” she said with a smile, reaching up to brush his unruly hair away from his face.   

Her fingertips brushed his cheek softly, somehow both tickling and burning a path across his skin at the same time. He reached up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her movement. His emerald eyes smouldered as he stared into hers, but he reined in his passion and love for her; it wouldn’t be right to take things too far. They were both so young, his own future was bleak and he wasn’t even entirely sure if he would survive the final confrontation with Voldemort that everyone knew was coming.   

 

 

He released her wrist but reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers; the action was small, innocent, but also somehow more intimate than any of the kisses they had previously shared.  

 

 

“I should go. I can’t be seen in here.” Despite her words, Ginny made no move to get up.   “Don’t let me fall asleep,” she murmured. Her eyes were closed and she looked so peaceful, a faint smile ghosting her lips. 

 

Harry kissed her softly, briefly and just lay there, watching her. His eyes flitted across her face, memorising her features: her small nose, the line of her jaw, the curve of her full, soft lips. He was just so happy that he was laying there with this girl, his Ginny, in his arms and he felt complete. There was nothing sexual in the situation, just one person comforting another, but she filled a hole in his life that he hadn’t known was there.   

 

 

He was supposed to stay awake and send Ginny back to her own dormitory before any of the other boys in the room woke. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. But the next thing he knew, he had opened his eyes and saw that the drapes around his bed were not the dark maroon they were in the dead of night, but starting to turn crimson in the early morning light. The sun was already rising of the horizon and he knew that the other boys would not be asleep for much longer.   

 

He shook Ginny gently. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him briefly, before sitting bolt upright in bed.  

 “Oh no.” 

 

 “Oh yes,” Harry said. “You have to go before the others wake up. If Ron catches you in here, he’ll bloody kill me. I’ll get my cloak.” 

 

Harry removed the Imperturbable Charm from his closed drapes and peeked out. None of the other four boys was stirring; he rushed to his trunk, rummaged around in it as quietly as he could and retrieved the shimmering, fluid-like Invisibility Cloak. He heard a grunt and a mumble from Dean’s bed and hurried to get the cloak over Ginny so she could escape with no one the wiser that she had spent half the night in Harry’s bed.   

 

 

Invisible beneath the cloak, Ginny slid out from behind the drapes.  

 

 

“See you at breakfast,” she whispered, planting a ghostly kiss on Harry’s cheek. Harry saw the door open and close as Ginny slipped out and breathed a sigh of relief.   

 

 

Ginny had almost reached her own dormitory room, when she realised she still hadn’t told Harry about her plan for Ron and Hermione. 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17 - Happy Birthday Ron

    Later that morning at breakfast, Ginny tried her best to ignore the sidelong glances and the whispers as she sat down to her toast. She thought she saw Lavender and Parvati glaring at her from further down the Gryffindor table and suppressed the urge to hex them under it. It was probably a good thing Hermione soon joined her. The two girls talked animatedly, and Ginny finally started to relax and then Ron and Harry came.    

 

Harry walked straight over to Ginny and kissed her on the cheek before sitting down beside her, pointedly ignoring Ron’s scowl. She smiled at Harry and kissed him back; she knew she could, and that made her want to even more.    

 

“Can’t you two put a lid on it? I’m trying to have breakfast here,” Ron hissed at them.    

“It’s not like we’re going at it on the table, Ron,” Ginny said incredulous. “When are you going to get over yourself and accept this?”   

 

“I just thought you would show a bit of discretion. Don’t you realise everyone is talking about you both?”   

 

“Ron, if everyone stopped talking about one person or another the castle walls would probably cave in; there wouldn’t be any hot air holding them up.”    

 

“Very funny,” Ron replied, looking not the least bit amused.   

 

At this point, Hermione, who had been strangely silent throughout the exchange, stood up, mumbled about having to start her Arithmancy essay and walked out. Ron’s eyes followed her until she passed out of sight through the great wooden doors. He seemed to lose his appetite after that and soon declared himself off to the Quidditch pitch.  

 

 

“Coming, Harry?” Ron asked as he stood to leave.  

 

 

Harry had started to rise when Ginny surreptitiously put her hand on his knee and squeezed. She gave him a meaningful glance, and he settled back down in his seat quickly.  

 

 

“Yeah, I’ll be along in a few.” 

 

 

“No worries,” Ron replied, already walking away from the table.  

 

 

“Those two really need to sort this out,” Harry said, watching his best mate leave, shoulders hunched.    

 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Ginny looked around them quickly, making sure no one was close enough to listen. “I’m going to give them another week, but if they can’t resolve it on their own, I’m going to have to step in.”  

 

 

“Interfere, you mean.”  

 

 

“Whatever label you put on it, Harry, this can’t go on and you know it.” 

 

 

“I know. You’re right. But what exactly are you proposing to do?”  

 

 

“Well…” Ever since Harry had jokingly suggested that they should just lock Ron and Hermione up together to let them work things out for themselves, Ginny hadn’t been able to let the idea go. “I was thinking about maybe the Room of Requirement.”  

 

 

“What about it?” 

 

 

“We’re going to lock them in there until they work things out, just like you suggested.” 

 

 

“Like I suggested?” Harry echoed surprised. 

 

 

“Yeah. That’s the beauty of the plan. It’s entirely your idea,” Ginny said cheekily. Harry rolled his eyes.  

 

 

“You’d better start at the beginning,” he said.  

 

 

 

***~*~***

 

“I really don’t know about this, Gin.” Harry and Ginny were sitting in a quiet corner of the Gryffindor common room. 

 

Ginny had explained her plan to him… and then spent the entire week trying to convince him that it was a good idea. Harry had become increasingly nervous throughout the week, as Ron and Hermione gave no indication that they were any closer to resolving their fight.    

 

“Relax, Harry, I’ve thought this through. It’s Friday night, so we have all weekend to do this. It’s Ron’s birthday tomorrow, so he’s already in a good mood. All you have to do is say you’ve left his present in the Room of Requirement and make him come with you to get it. I’ll get Hermione up there with an excuse about practical Charms work. Do you remember what you’re going to be thinking to get the room to open?”  

 

 

“I’ll be thinking ‘I need somewhere to lock Ron and Hermione in so they can talk,’” Harry recited.  

 

 

She nodded. “Good. Now all we need are —” 

 

 

“The victims.” 

 

 

“Very funny,” she said dryly. “Just go get Ron, will you?” 

 

 

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but a stern look from Ginny made him stop and look around to see that Ron was just coming in through the portrait hole.   

 

“Oh, hey, Ron,” said Harry, at a louder volume than he had meant.  

 

 

Ron gave him an odd look as he walked over to them. “You sound strange. What’s going on?”  

 

 

“No, nothing. Hey, I’ve got your birthday present,” Harry said, with a quick glance at Ginny. 

 

 

“Brilliant,” Ron said, his face lighting up.  

 

 

“But I left it somewhere. Come with me and get it.”                       

 

 

“Uh, ok.” Ron looked confused again. “Why didn’t I just get it with—?” 

 

 

“Well, let’s go then,” Harry interrupted, jumping up and heading for the portrait hole before Ron could finish his question. Harry led the way as they walked down several corridors.   

 

“My birthday present is in the Room of Requirement?” Ron asked, when he realised where they were heading.   

 

 

“Yeah.” Harry thought that sticking to monosyllables would be his best bet at this point   “If I ask why am I going to want to hear the answer?” 

 

 

“Huh?”  

 

 

“You didn’t bring my sister up here, did you?”  

 

 

“No! No, nothing like that,” Harry spluttered.  

 

 

“Good.” 

 

 

“Shut up, will you? I need to concentrate.” Harry paced back and forth in front of a familiar blank section of wall until a door appeared.   

 

They entered into a room that looked vaguely like the Gryffindor common room with comfortable looking couches and squashy armchairs around a fireplace. On a small table at the far side of the room sat a gift wrapped in red and gold paper. Ron walked over to it and, ripping the covering off of it, grinned broadly at the Quidditch Keeper gloves that Harry had given him.   

 

“Cheers, mate. They’re brilliant. Why didn’t you just give me them this morning with the rest of my presents?” asked Ron with a puzzled look on his face.    

 

“Umm…” Harry’s need for a reply was cut off when the door opened and Ginny pushed Hermione through it.    

 

“Ginny, what on earth is going on?” Hermione said. She looked around the room with confusion written across her face before she saw Harry and Ron across the room and scowled.   

 

 

“Well, Harry and I thought that you two could use some ‘alone time’ to work out your differences, because to be perfectly frank, you are making it uncomfortable for the rest of us. It’s been two months and we’re tired of it.” Ginny said, matter-of-factly. 

 

 

Ron and Hermione had identical perplexed looks on their faces, and Ginny discretely motioned for Harry to follow her out the door. She reached for the door handle, and found that it wouldn’t turn. She rattled the knob for a moment; still it wouldn’t open. She tapped it with her wand, muttered ‘Alohomora,’ and rattled it some more.  

 

 

“Harry! What the hell!? We’re supposed to lock _them_ in, not get locked in ourselves!”  

 

 

“Well, what are you looking at me for? This was your idea from the start!” 

 

 

“Bugger,” Ginny said, thumping the door one last time before turning to face the others with an overly bright smile.  

 

 

“Well then, looks like Harry and I aren’t going anywhere. But the Room should release us, just as soon as you two resolve your differences.” 

 

 

“Fat chance.” 

 

 

“Not bloody likely.” Ron and Hermione said together. 

 

 

“Well, whether you like it or not, we’re all stuck here. Wouldn’t mind a good book and some biscuits while I wait though,” Ginny said to the room at large and on the low table in front of the fireplace, a book appeared.

 

 “Thank you.” She settled herself in one of the armchairs, picked up the book and draped her legs over the arm of the chair before looking around for the biscuits. “What about those biscuits?” she asked, looking at the ceiling.    

 

“You can’t produce food out of thin air; it’s one of the five exceptions of Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.” Hermione reeled off the facts without appearing to think about it. She glared at Ron when he sighed loudly.   

 

 

Ginny rolled her eyes at the pair of them and pointedly turned a page in her book, clearly choosing to ignore them both.  

 

 

Harry shrugged and sat down across from Ginny, picking up _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , which had just appeared on another side table.   

 

 

Several hours later, Ginny closed her book with a sigh. She had read it from cover to cover, and Ron and Hermione were still just sitting in armchairs across from each other, glaring daggers at one another. It had become another battle of wills and neither was willing to lose by breaking the silence first.  

 

 

“Well?” she asked, staring pointedly from one to the other. 

 

 

“Well, what?” Ron demanded.  

 

 

“Well, I realise that you two would probably prefer to brood and mope and glare at each other for another month or two, but if you would like to take this opportunity to swallow your pride and apologise, then we’re bound to get out of here a bit faster.” 

 

 

“What do you mean, ‘swallow our pride’? Pride has nothing to do with it. And I am not apologizing, because I did nothing wrong,” Ron stated, folding his arms across his chest.    

 

“Like heck you did nothing wrong. You turned our relationship into a game!” Hermione shouted indignantly, before turning to Ginny, “And I am not apologizing until he does. Besides, he started it.”   

 

“No, I did not! You did!”  

 

 

“Did not!”   

 

“Did too!”   

 

Ginny groaned and rested her head in her hands. “This is going to be a long night,” she muttered.  

 

 

“At least they’re talking to each other now. That’s something anyway,” Harry said, flicking through the _Daily Prophet_ for the Quidditch results. He had long finished with _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , but at least the room continued to keep him entertained.  

 

 

Ron and Hermione continued to yell at one another, becoming louder and more animated as the fight continued. Two months worth of anger and indignation were driving them on. All the while, Harry and Ginny sat on the sidelines, pretending to ignore them, but with their wands out just in case things got out of hand.  

 

 

“They really seem to enjoy this, don’t they?” Harry said, after a good forty minutes of shouting. 

 

 

“Oh, I know! My God, it’s like watching some bizarre mating ritual.” 

 

 

“Yeah, thanks for that. I really needed that mental image,” Harry muttered sarcastically.  

 

 

Both Ron and Hermione were red in the face and slightly breathless, when things seemed to come to a head.  

 

 

“Hermione, what do you want me to say!? You act like the victim in all this, but you’re the one who started it all!”   

 

Hermione spluttered for a moment, before finding her voice. “What do you mean, ‘I started it!?’ It was your idea from the beginning! Or did you forget that little conversation you and Harry had, where you wanted to…what was it? ‘Make things interesting?’”  

 

 

“Yeah, and who made the first move? Huh? Who went straight up to Parvati and Lavender and then started parading around the castle dressed like a tart?”   

 

 

“You didn’t seem to mind me dressed like a tart, when your tongue was dragging on the floor and you couldn’t take your eyes off my — ”   

 

“Whoa! My point is that you were the one playing the dirty tricks, I was just trying to keep breathing!”   

 

 

Hermione opened her mouth to argue back, but for once she didn’t have anything to say. Ron stepped closer to her, and said the last thing she was expecting.    

 

“I was wrong. I never meant to hurt you. I don’t know what I was thinking, turning the whole thing into a game. But you know,” he added with a small smile, “I think we can both agree that you won.”   

 

 

Hermione fought back the smile that threatened to mirror his. 

 

 

“It was never really about the game, Hermione. It wasn’t about winning or losing.”   

 

“What was it about then? What do you want from me, Ron?”  

 

 

“I don’t want anything _from_ you. I just want you.” 

 

 

The shock registered in Hermione’s eyes as Ron quickly closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her waist, and for the first time, lowered his lips onto hers.  

 

 

Harry and Ginny were still sitting in their armchairs by the hearth-fire, watching the couple embrace. Ginny glanced towards the door and was happy to note the appearance of a large brass key in the keyhole. A soft smile crossed her face as she turned to Harry.  

 

 

“Do you think we should give them some privacy?” 

 

 

Harry chuckled. “I think we’re just fuzzy blurs to them now.”  

 

 

Ron raised his hand to give them a two-fingered salute, before wrapping his arms tighter around Hermione’s waist. Ron pulled away briefly to give his arm a hard pinch.

 

 

“Ouch!” he exclaimed.   

 

 “Are you actually surprised that that hurt?” Hermione asked with a laugh.  

 

 

“No, I was just checking.” 

 

 

“Yeah, I don’t think this is a dream, mate,” Harry piped up from the sofa.  

 

 

“Well, that’s the thing. It is really,” Ron murmured as he looked into Hermione’s eyes. He looked startled when she giggled. 

 

 

 

“That was so lame.”  

 

 

“Yeah, I know. But it’s still true,” Ron replied with a blush. 

 

 

Hermione smiled lovingly at him. 

 

 

 

“Happy Birthday, Ron,” she whispered to him, before pulling his head down to kiss him again.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18 - Not a Dream

Hermione woke the next morning with a smile on her face, but it quickly left her. _It was all just a wonderful dream_ , she thought to herself. _But now I’ll go downstairs, and he still won’t talk to, or look at me. It’s worse than when he thought Crookshanks had eaten that bloody rat_. 

 

 

  Hermione dressed quickly and ran down the dormitory stairs to the common room, and sought out the familiar flaming red hair of the only person she wanted to see. She had to know, and yet dreaded it all the same. Dreading that moment when he saw her and then deliberately looked away, without even that lopsided grin she loved, the one he gave her on the mornings that they weren’t fighting. She hadn’t seen that smile in months.  

 

She found the person she was searching for; saw him sitting, as always, near the fireplace playing wizard chess with Harry. Ron looked up, as if he had sensed her eyes upon him but instead of looking away, he smiled. It hadn’t been a dream. It was all real, and last night they had finally put everything behind them, and he had kissed her, and she had kissed him, and her world had stopped in his embrace.   

 

 

She smiled back shyly and walked over to them.   

 

 

“Hi,” Hermione said, blushing slightly. The turn of events was wonderful, but now Hermione found she had no idea how to act around him.   Ron turned to Ginny, who was sitting next to him reading.

 

 

 “Move.” 

 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

 

 

“Move over.”  

 

Ginny blinked at him, frowning. “Let me get this straight. I can’t sit next to Harry, because you don’t want us, and I quote, “getting cosy.” And now I’m being moved along, so you can sit next to your girlfriend.” 

 

 

 

“Pretty much, yeah.” 

 

 

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. She looked over at Harry, who was trying not to laugh, “We’ve created a monster.” 

 

 

“Very funny,” Ron said, giving Ginny a shove. She retaliated quickly, slapping at his hand with her book. 

 

 

“Ow!” Ron snatched his arm away.  

 

 

Hermione had stood by throughout the exchange with a bemused expression on her face.  

 

 “Have you all have breakfast already?”   

 

 

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but Ginny cut across him. 

 

 

 

“No, Ron made us all wait for you,” she said, poking her tongue at Ron who was glaring at her.   

 

Hermione laughed, shaking her head at them both. 

 

 

“Do you want to go down now then?” she asked. In answer, the other three stood, the chess game abandoned, and they trooped off, down to the Great Hall. Halfway down a corridor, Hermione dropped back from the group, and Ron soon joined her. Suddenly, Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand and pulled him through a tapestry and down a hidden passage.   

 

Harry and Ginny were deep in conversation and didn’t realised they were alone until they reached the Great Hall.  

 

“Where the hell did they go?” Harry said, looking around. “They were right behind us.” 

 

 

“Think about it, Harry,” Ginny said with a soft smile. “What were we doing the day after we first got together?” 

 

 

Harry chuckled. “Good point. I’ll grab them some food for later.” 

 

 

***~*~***

 

Hermione led Ron down several passages until they made their way to the entrance hall, and then out the main doors. They started walking out across the grounds, passed others who were enjoying the warm early spring morning, and continued on until they found themselves alone in the shade of a large oak on the edge of the lake. Ron sat with his back against the tree trunk, Hermione a short distance away.   

 

 

The silence was awkward; neither of them knew quite how to behave in each others’ company. Finally Hermione thought that the best approach would be the direct one. She reached into a pocket of her robes, and pulled out what looked like a crumpled piece of parchment.  

 

 

“Ron, I want to show you something. And you have to promise you won’t get angry, at least until I can explain myself properly.” Hermione spoke quickly, staring into her lap, and refusing to make eye contact with him.  

 

 

“Hermione, if this is about that stupid game that I thought up, I really am sorry. I was a complete and utter prat.” Ron leaned forward to take her hands. The look in his eyes showed her how sincere he was.  

 

“I realised what I’d done, that night that you slapped me.”   

 

Hermione blushed slightly, “Um, yeah. Sorry about that.”  

 

He grinned at her. “That’s why I admitted I was wrong so quickly last night.”  

 

 “I wouldn’t exactly call an hour long argument quick, but that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. I think we can both agree, I was just as much to blame for that turn of events than you were,” she said, cringing slightly as she remembered her behaviour during that week in December.   

 

 

Ron chuckled, apparently on the same train of thought, “They certainly were interesting Christmas holidays.” 

 

 

“This isn’t about that though. Not entirely anyway.” She held out the parchment that she had been clutching so that Ron could see that it was actually an envelope; an envelope that he had seen before. Immediately, he sobered.   

 

 

“Hermione, why are you showing me that ruddy envelope again? I don’t want to see it.” 

 

 “Ron, you prat. Read the date on this.” Hermione shoved the envelope from Krum’s letter into Ron’s face so he had no choice but to look at it. His eyes widened.   

 

 

“See?” Hermione said, putting it away. “This letter is over twelve months old. Victor wrote to me that summer after the tournament, asking me to visit him and I told him, again, that I couldn’t because I did not feel that way about him. I wouldn’t lead him on when I already had feelings for someone else. I haven’t heard from him since.”  

 

“Why did you keep the envelope then?” Ron asked sullenly.    

 

“Because I felt sad that he didn’t want to be just friends. Friends and nothing more,” she said, shuffling forward and taking his hand in hers. 

 

 

 

“There was never anything romantic between Victor and I. Never was and never will be, because I am already completely besotted with my best friend. I love _you_ ,” she said to him, staring long into his eyes to make sure he understood properly.  
 

 

“I loved you then, and I love you now, and I will always love you. Even if you are completely infuriating sometimes,” she said with a smile, “It’s always been you, Ron.” She had never declared her feelings so freely and openly as she did now, and she looked away, overcome with the emotions welling up inside her.  

 

Ron reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, and as their eyes locked, brought his lips to hers. Hermione was startled at the intensity at first, before she responded just as eagerly. She couldn’t believe it had taken them so long to get to this point. Hermione soon realised that kissing Ron came to her almost as naturally as breathing, and she thought he felt the same way. He eased his lips over hers, slowly and softly. His tongue tickled her lips and she tentatively opened her mouth, giving him access and finding she enjoyed it. She experimentally stroked his tongue with hers, and took his moan as a sign that she was doing something right.   

 

They had kissed the night before, when they had both come to their senses and realised what their pride had been stopping them from achieving. But this was different. This was an exploration, the beginning of a journey that would reveal their respective likes and dislikes. These first kisses, first hesitant touches, would lead to something wonderful, that right now, they only had a vague awareness of.   

 

 

Ron’s hands moved almost of their own volition, sliding up her back, pulling her body closer to his. One hand went to the top of her skirt and slowly pulled at her blouse until it untucked. His hand slid underneath and just rested there, his fingertips drawing small circles on the small of her back. She tingled all over, shivering at the sensation. The fact that they were out in the open didn’t really occur to her, and right now, she couldn’t have cared less anyway.   

 

Hermione’s hands were pressed against Ron’s chest and she found that she loved the play of his muscles under her fingers. A small voice in the back of her mind told her that he wasn’t even completely filled out yet, and she shuddered with delight. Ron pulled away slightly, a concerned look on his face.   

 

 

“Are you ok?” he asked, concern written across his face. 

 

 

“I’m more than ok,” Hermione said. “I’ve been wanting this for so long.” 

 

 

 

Ron gave her a crooked smile, sweeping a loose curl away from her face. 

 

 

 “I know what you mean. I remember us in first year and I think even then I fancied you. Well, as much as an eleven-year-old can, anyway,” he amended.  

 

“What are you talking about? You couldn’t stand me. Not until Halloween.”   

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but then, you know how George used to torment Katie? He would save his worst practical jokes for her, spiders down her robes, slugs in her hair, everything. Now look at them, Katie is six months pregnant.”   

 

Hermione moved closer to him so that her back was pressed into Ron’s strong chest as he leaned against the trunk of the oak tree. His strong arms were wrapped around her, and his fingers entwined with hers.   

 

 

“We thought we’d find you two out here,” Ginny called to them. “We brought you some food. You missed breakfast.” 

 

 

“Cheers,” Ron said. Just then his stomach growled, as if on cue. He took the napkin that Ginny held out to him and grabbed a piece of cold toast from within it, before offering the bundle to Hermione.  

 

 “Thanks,” she murmured. She looked up at Ginny, and searched the younger girl’s expression for disapproval. Ginny seemed to know what she was doing and nodded slightly, a small smile crossing her face. Hermione blushed as she realised the intimate way she and Ron were sitting, but neither Ginny nor Harry seemed the slightest bit perturbed, as they sat down in the shade with them.   

 

 

The morning was too nice to spend indoors, even considering the amount of homework they all had. The four sat together, enjoying the break from the dreary winter weather, and the company of close friends.   

 

 

***~*~***   

 

Another student had been enjoying the sunshine that morning; at least, he had been until he came across the scene underneath the oak tree, and the four Gryffindor’s laughing and joking together. It sickened him. He saw Hermione resting in Ron’s arms. _The Mudblood and the Weasel must have finally buried the hatchet_ , he thought, then grimaced as the more vulgar meaning for that phrase popped into his head.   

 

 

He started to turn away, to head back up to the castle when one laugh could be heard over the others. Draco looked back, and was captivated by Ginny talking with the other three. She had lain down on the grass, using Harry as a pillow. He watched her move her hands animatedly as she told some story, the others listening avidly; every now and then she would reach over and stroke Harry’s thigh, or poke him in the ribs with a cheeky grin.    

 

Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away, until he nearly tripped in a hole. He cursed under his breath as he regained his balance. Looking around quickly to see if anyone had noticed, he fled up to the castle.  

 

 

He immediately went down through the dungeons and straight to the Slytherin common room. Crossing the room, he saw a familiar face in the corner, flicking through a leather bound book, which looked to be stained with blood. Draco fled up the stairs, hoping she had not noticed him, and sighing with relief when she made no move to indicate that she had.  He had made it to his room and collapsed on his bed with a groan. _What_ _was I thinking, getting involved with her_? he thought to himself. _This plan is never going to work_. A more traitorous part of his mind asked, _Do I really want it to work_ , when there was a soft tap on his door.   

 

 

“Not now!” he yelled at the door.   

 

“I think now is actually a good time for a chat,” a familiar voice said, as the door opened.   

 

Draco groaned, and without looking up, knew that Alyssia was standing in his doorway.   

 

 

“What do you want?”  

 

 “Can’t people visit each other without having an ulterior motive?”  

 

 

“People can; you can’t. What do you want, Alyssia?” he asked, standing up with a frown.  

 

 “I just wanted to make sure everything was ok. You seemed out of sorts walking through the common room just now. You wouldn’t be having second thoughts on me would you, Draco dear?” Alyssia asked silkily, as she slunk towards him, “Because that would make me most upset.”   

 

 

She stopped in front of him. Without a change in expression, she suddenly reached out and roughly grabbed an area on Draco that was only meant to be treated nicely. He yelped loudly and tried to jump back, but stopped quickly when she started to squeeze. He visibly paled as all of the blood rushed from his face.   

 

 

“What the fuck?” he squeaked. 

 

 

“Like I said, I would be most upset if you did anything to ruin the plan. With only two months to go, do I really have to re-explain to you the importance of our succeeding in this scheme at such a late stage? Because I have no compunctions in–” She started to squeeze her hand again.  

 

 

“No! No, I’m not having second thoughts. Plan full steam ahead and all that.” Draco’s voice was several octaves higher than normal, and he was beginning to shake from the pain. 

 

 

“Excellent,” Alyssia said. “You would be wise to remember that.” She kissed his cheek softly before releasing him. Then she turned and left without another word.  

 

 

Draco released a shuddering breath. “Bitch,” he muttered, before crumpling to the floor. Pain shot through his body every time he moved. “

 

Ugh,” he moaned. “I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   _A/N: Well there you go. I know it has been a long time coming but it’s finally here: the long awaited R/H chapter! And a bit more of Draco on the side there. Just what is Alyssia up to, I hear you ask? Well you’ll just have to read and find out for yourself. :)_


End file.
